


Take The Dive

by lmaohae



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot Twists, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-22
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-07-15 14:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16065272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmaohae/pseuds/lmaohae
Summary: Lee Donghae is many things. He is, first and foremost, a twenty-seven-year-old bachelor who, after careful judgment, decides to leave the city life behind following his recovery from a traumatic accident that washed away most of his memory. The amnesiac then moves to his childhood home in Seogwipo, Jeju on a quest to look for a peace of mind and, on his quest, stumbles upon an auburn-haired man who may or may not have the key to unlocking the Pandora's box to his past.Can the man be trusted, or does he have ulterior motives?Will Donghae choose to steer clear of the danger that lurks ahead, or will he take the dive, risking everything in a bid to discover the truth behind his memory loss?





	1. Reunited

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the first chapter of this fanfic while listening to Jonghyun's track, "Take The Dive" off his last album, Poet | Artist. The song inspired me to write a storyline involving a man and the turmoil he experiences whilst deciding whether or not to take a risk that could either change his life for the better, or cause a domino effect that would leave him in deadlock. Donghae, the main character of my fanfic, is forced into situations that require him to take small calculated risks. I hope I manage to make him sound really, incredibly intelligent in this one, and convince you to keep on reading.

     Sitting on a small stool he’d brought from home, Donghae placed his bag on the gravel next to his feet, buried his face in his hands and sighed. He was a creature of habit, and each time he found himself wallowing in self-pity and turmoil he’d make his way to Jeongbang Waterfalls on a bicycle to clear his mind. It was the only way he knew how. He looked up and watched as tourists wandered around in front of the basin of the waterfall; couples taking sweet photographs of each other while their children ran around in glee, chasing and splashing in the shallow waters. He instantly felt sheepish for being so easily amused by the sight, his faint smile fading as quickly as it had come across his face. A sense of longing began to pool in his chest at the thought of never being able to feel the happiness they felt. His heart sank.

     “I can’t keep living like this,” he muttered, taking out a sketchbook and a pencil from his bag.

     By now he’d figured out that drawing was the only thing that could calm him, so he began to sketch. He took in every detail of the sight that unfolded in front of him, from the water cascading down the rocks, to the families exploring the waterfall. Moving to Jeju Island was a good decision on his part. He needed a long break from the stressful hustle and bustle of city life, and Seogwipo definitely made up for everything he had left behind in Seoul. The panoramic view of beauty only nature could provide greeted him each morning, the air was crisp and the sky was almost always a light shade of blue. It felt like a dream waking up in Jeju, and with each day that passed, he felt more and more comforted by said “dream”. Donghae was so absorbed in sketching that he barely paid any attention to the black car that had driven up the path near the waterfall, much less to the sound of footsteps inching towards him.

 

     “What a nice view.”

     Baffled at the abrupt conversation that he had been engaged in, Donghae looked up from his sketchbook, only to see a tall man clad in a thick brown jumper, tight black jeans ripped at the knees and black combat boots, standing before him with a gentle smile on his face. The man had auburn-coloured hair that was styled in a faux mohawk, pale skin, and an olive green jacket slung over one arm. _Is it really that cold?_ Donghae wondered. _Bet he’s a tourist._ Instinctively, Donghae placed his book and pencil on the ground and rose from his stool to meet the man eye to eye.

     “Um, yeah. The view is really lovely,” said Donghae, smiling thinly. “The waterfall is a—“

     “I wasn’t talking about the waterfall,” the man interrupted. “I was talking about you.”

     The man’s words sparked an invisible tension that, perhaps only in Donghae’s imagination, quickly enveloped the two of them. Donghae was taken aback by the bluntness of the handsome stranger that stood before him, but was careful not to to let it show. He stared at his feet, uncomfortable, internally counting to ten before cracking a smile. He felt intimidated by the sudden appearance of this random stranger who, judging by how he carried himself, seemed to exude a natural-born confidence, whereas Donghae himself had always been on the _not-so-confident_ side. He was a klutz; an enigma that easily felt embarassed, and was all the more complicated because of his poor ability to recall any memory from before he turned twenty. That aside, he knew to never let his guard down, especially around strangers, for he was a lone wolf in this world and his own defence. He had been, ever since he turned twenty, at least.

     “You’re not so bad-looking yourself,” flirted Donghae, grinning. The man smirked in response, looking Donghae directly in the eye. Donghae couldn’t help but to look away nervously. Faking confidence was only easy right up until anyone made direct eye contact with him. He hated giving anyone the power to read him, and he knew that his eyes reflected his vulnerability clearer than his actions did. He was so self-conscious that he nearly forgot the man who was now scanning him from head to toe.

     “Are you okay?” asked the man, gently. His face had contorted into a look of concern, his brows raised, head tilted. Donghae’s eyes were fixated on the ground. He nodded diffidently, still unable to look him directly in the eye. The man sighed.

     “I’m sorry if I scared you,” he apologised, pursing his lips. “I’m not very good at making friends.”

     Upon hearing this, Donghae softened. There was absolutely no reason for him to turn down this man if all he wanted was a friend. Donghae waved a hand dismissively as if to refuse the man’s apology. There was no reason for him to apologise anyway, at least to him. He smiled and reached out his hand.

       “No need to say sorry,” he reassured, waiting for the man to shake his hand.

     The man quickly jumped at the opportunity, shaking Donghae’s hand firmly. He didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot and he knew this was his chance to redeem himself for making his newfound friend uncomfortable. He grinned widely, the gums of his teeth showing.

      “I’m Hyukjae,” said the man, withdrawing his hand.

      Donghae nodded in acknowledgment, grinning back. “Call me Donghae,” was his response. His eyes quickly glossed over the man, who now had a name, and without thinking, curiousity erupted from him in the form of a question. “Are you a tourist?”

     Hyukjae laughed.

    “No, I’m not.” He said, matter-of-factly. “Why, do I look like one?”

     Donghae took a step back, sizing Hyukjae up playfully with his chin rested on a fisted palm.

     “Well you sure don’t dress like someone from around here.

     “Oh?” Hyukjae sounded surprised, maybe even amused. “What does someone from around here dress like, then?”

     Donghae stifled a smile.

     “I don’t know, but definitely not like—“ He wagged a finger in Hyukjae’s direction. “—that.”     

Hyukjae wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, or a snide remark at his dress sense. He decided to snap out of his thoughts and explain himself.

     “I’m here on a business trip,” he started. “I saw you sitting alone, writing something and I wondered if you’d mind showing me around. I’m assuming you’re from around here, since you know so much about how the people from around here dress.”

     Donghae grit his teeth, abashed. He couldn’t help but to wonder if he had come off as rude, but that was most definitely not his intention. He was well aware of his mischievous character, and how at times his words could come across as careless. Maybe he should be the one to apologise for his rash choice of words instead.

     “I’m sorry abo—“

     Before he could finish his sentence, Hyukjae crouched down, both picking up his sketchbook and distracting Donghae from the apology he was about to make. Hyukjae held the book in one hand and ran his fingers over the cover. The sketchbook was wrapped in a smooth, brown leather sleeve. Donghae’s eyes followed Hyukjae’s fingers; first they traced the shapes of the Hangul letters that formed his name embossed on the cover, then they split the book open to the page of his last drawing; the one he had been working on before he was interrupted by the presence of this auburn-haired man. Hyukjae looked up at Donghae.

     “You drew this?”

     Donghae hesitated. It was a sketch of the scene that had played out in front of him, of families enjoying the view, snapping pictures and wading in the plunge pool. It was unfinished, though, and for some reason, Donghae felt invaded, looking on as Hyukjae’s eyes glanced the sketch over and over. He had never shown anyone his sketchbook, mainly because the only times he used it was when he needed a canvas to unleash his creativity while his brain melted in dicomfort. He didn’t realise how long his entire being had been in screensaver mode until Hyukjae’s voice broke the silence between them.

     “Draw me,” Hyukjae requested, gently pushing the sketchbook into Donghae’s hands.

     “What did you—“

     “Draw me.”

     Hyukjae’s voice was firm, but his expression remained soft. As if on command, Donghae sat back down on the tiny stool he’d brought along and picked up the pencil that he’d left on the gravel. Hyukjae followed suit, sitting cross-legged in front of Donghae. He relaxed his shoulders, leaned forward, and smiled.

     “Let’s see if you can copy my features accurately,” he teased. “Who knows, if you sketch me well, I might just hire you as an artist for my company.”

     Donghae perused Hyukjae’s face at his own pace, subconsciously biting the top of his pencil. He noticed how Hyukjae’s features were a perfect balance between chiseled: his jawline was remarkably sharp and nearly symmetrical, akin to a doll made in a workshop; and soft: he had a high nose bridge that rounded at the tip like a button, and thick lips. Hyukjae tried to be a good subject for the man, staying as still as he possibly could manage, but he also wanted to know more about Donghae. He caved.

     “Where do you live?” Hyukjae asked, careful not to move anything but his lips so Donghae could study his features.

     Donghae began to mark the clean page of his sketchbook with his pencil, first forming the frame of Hyukjae’s face. His eyes darted between Hyukjae and the page of the book as his hand worked away at the sketch.

     “I live near Sagye beach,” he replied, eyes still looking from the sketch, to Hyukjae and back. He was so focused on completing the sketch he hardly realised the look of pleasant surprise that had taken over Hyukjae. Hyukjae, on the other hand, smirked at this newly attained information.

     “Sagye beach is _very_ near where I work,” he shared, crinkling his nose. “Maybe you should drop by sometime. We could have lunch together and then maybe you could show me around.”

     Donghae paused briefly, shooting Hyukjae a look as if what he had just said was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard.

     “Why would _I_ come to your _workplace?_ ”

     “Because,” Hyukjae declaimed. “I own it. And besides—“

     Just then, a voice called out from behind Donghae. Both of them turned, only to see a young woman with shiny black hair that curled and ended at her shoulders tottering towards them. She was dressed in a long, grey overcoat with faux fur lining its hems, and heels that must’ve added at least two inches to her height. _Way too fancy for Jeju,_ Donghae thought. It was only when she called out a second time that Donghae realised she was looking for Hyukjae.

 

     “Hyukkie!”

     Hyukjae stood up, holding his arms out in front of him as if to embrace the woman upon arrival, except he didn’t. Instead, the woman grabbed onto his arms, steadying herself. She smiled ambiguously.

     “We have to go,” she said, her voice quiet.

     Donghae stood up slowly, observing the exchange between the woman and Hyukjae. As if she had noticed this, she hooked her arm around Hyukjae’s and beamed at Donghae. Donghae could feel her eyes skim over him like a laser even though he kept his head bowed, eyes on the ground. _When did I become this unconfident prick?_ He wondered to himself as his eyes glanced over the three pairs of feet between them. Hyukjae reached into his pocket, pulling out a silver card case made of metal. He pressed a small button at the side of the case, ejecting a namecard. He handed it to Donghae.

     “Finish up that drawing,” Hyukjae coaxed. “and when you’re free, call me. Let’s have lunch like I suggested.”

     With that, the couple took off towards the black car that was parked on the curb a few metres away. Donghae, confused as he was that someone had even approached him in the first place, was now left behind feeling even more perplexed than he did in the beginning. He noticed the woman doing a double-take, asking Hyukjae, “Who’s he?” but couldn’t hear the response. Donghae was alone again.

 

 

* * *

 

     Retreating to the car, Hyukjae sighed. _Almost got you,_ he thought to himself. He pulled on the car door handle and boarded the car, sitting shotgun. He felt a little upset he had to leave his newfound friend so soon, but he knew that whatever interrupted the moment had to be urgent. As he buckled his seat belt, a faint smile crept onto his face. _Glad I found you, at least._


	2. Screen Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyuhyun remained indifferent, and Donghae couldn’t help but to feel dispirited. Each time he happened to bring up a man, his best friend would assume the worst. He understood Kyuhyun’s disdain to a certain agree, considering that in the length of their friendship he’d have bothered Kyuhyun with his relationship problems at least a couple dozen times by now, but he wished his friend would at least try to show a little bit of interest. The disappointment had somehow made its way to his face, and Kyuhyun noticed. He began to type. Donghae watched as his friend’s eyes swept the screen, his face unfeeling. Then, his eyes widened.

     The sky had fallen, and all the sounds of daytime had dissolved into a quiet whisper of the night. Donghae sat at his desk, fresh from a shower. He leaned back in his computer chair, inspecting the small white card pinched between his fingers. He hadn’t paid much attention to it since Hyukjae had handed it to him earlier that day, but now that he was alone in his room, with nothing else to do as he waited for his best friend to video call him, curiosity swept over him like a wave crashing against the shore. He held the card against the light. It mainly read:

LEE HYUKJAE

CEO OF MONTEVIEW STAY RESORT, SEOGWIPO

 

     Donghae snickered. _CEO, huh._ He placed the namecard on his desk just in time to react to the familiar ring of a video call blaring from his MacBook. He scrambled for his mouse as the screen of his MacBook blinked in sync with the rhythm of the ringing. Donghae manoeuvred his mouse on the pad until his cursor aligned with the **ANSWER** button on screen and clicked. The ringing stopped, prompting a window to open. His best friend appeared on the screen, smiling benevolently.

            “Hello, you freak of nature!”

            “Hey, Kyuhyun,” Donghae greeted in return, rolling his eyes at his friend’s verbal jab.

     Kyuhyun shuffled in his seat, before reaching for something off-screen. He withdrew his hand a split second later, glasses entwined in his fingers. Putting it on, he took a deep breath and sighed, staring straight into his webcam. He’d known Donghae since they were children, and could tell when his best friend had his mind in a tussle from a mile away.

            “Why’d you summon me today, Mr Grumps?”

     Donghae slumped his shoulders, reaching for the namecard that he had previously left on the desk. He raised it in front of the webcam for his best friend to see.

            “This,” Donghae lamented, “is why.”

     Kyuhyun adjusted his glasses and squinted, reading the words off the card. Then, he groaned. Donghae didn’t like the sound of that groan one bit.

            “Really, Donghae? Another man problem?”

            “Yes, you dick.”

     Kyuhyun remained indifferent, and Donghae couldn’t help but to feel dispirited. Each time he happened to bring up a man, his best friend would assume the worst. He understood Kyuhyun’s disdain to a certain agree, considering that in the length of their friendship he’d have bothered Kyuhyun with his relationship problems at least a couple dozen times by now, but he wished his friend would at least _try_ to show a little bit of interest. The disappointment had somehow made its way to his face, and Kyuhyun noticed. He began to type. Donghae watched as his friend’s eyes swept the screen, his face unfeeling. Then, his eyes widened.

           “Wow, Donghae,” he uttered suddenly, running his free thumb over his lips as he continued to scour the screen. “I don’t know who this Lee Hyukjae guy is, but one thing’s for sure; he’s _rich!_ ”

     Kyuhyun began to move his mouse, clicking on a dialogue box that prompted the screen to split in half. On one half, Kyuhyun was still visible, but on the other, Donghae could see what activity Kyuhyun was engaged in as they video called, and more importantly, he could see the article that his best friend had been scrolling through. The article was posted on some sort of business forum, presuming from the name of the website. The title of the article read, “Ten of South Korea’s Richest Young Entrepeneurs”. Kyuhyun scrolled to the bottom of the screen in search of the man Donghae was concerned about.

          “Stop,” Donghae commanded.

     Kyuhyun did as told. There on the screen, ranked at number two, was Lee Hyukjae, the same man Donghae had met near Jeongbang Waterfalls, except in the photo placed under his rank and name, Hyukjae looked much younger, and had jetblack hair instead of the bright auburn-coloured hair he’d had when they met face to face. Kyuhyun began to read out loud:

          “Number Two: Lee Hyukjae, CEO of Monteview Stay Resort and Yeppeun Yeoja Cosmetics. Net Worth: 5.7 billion USD.”

          “What the fuck?”

          “Yeah, what the fuck indeed.” Kyuhyun adjusted his glasses once more, interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them. “Alright, Donghae. Spill the fucking beans. What’s your deal with this guy?”

     Donghae, still in shock from the revelation, shook his head to refocus his attention.

          “Uh, well..” He licked his dry lips before continuing. “I was having a meltdown earlier today, so I did the usual. I went to the waterfall with my sketchbook and started to draw. Out of nowhere, this bloke approaches me and introduces himself.”

          “No way.”

          “Yes way, and as if that wasn’t weird enough, he made me draw him. He had to leave halfway with some woman though, and that’s when he gave me his namecard. He told me to call him.”

     Kyuhyun sunk in his seat, his face pensive. Donghae had no idea what was going through his best friend’s mind so he, as he always did, decided to wait patiently for Kyuhyun to come up with some sort of hypothesis, like he always did. While waiting, he found himself glossing over the namecard again and again, this time with the newly found details they’d acquired of the mysterious man, Lee Hyukjae, in mind. Now knowing that the auburn-haired man was not only rich but also extremely successful, it perplexed Donghae even more. Neither Donghae nor Kyuhyun could fathom why a man of such high stature would throw a namecard in the direction of some random person and instruct him to call him, let alone for it to be Donghae of all people.

          “Call him.”

          “What?”

          “Call him,” Kyuhyun repeated nonchalantly, wiping his glasses with his shirt, before putting it back on.

     Donghae was confused.

          “Weren’t you __just_ _ about to berate me for sharing my stupid man problem with you? What’s with the one-eighty, Kyu?”

     Kyuhyun had taken over the entire screen again, and in response to Donghae’s mini interrogation, he smirked.

          “ _Because,_ Donghae,” he began, “the dude is _rich._ You could milk him for all he’s worth. Just imagine the endless possibilities you could sunbathe in with a man THAT rich. It’s insane. And in case I haven’t said it enough, I’ll say it again: the man is _filthy rich_ and he obviously has a hard-on for you. Why else would he ask you, a complete stranger, to call him?”

 

     The man had a point. As ridiculous as he’d sounded, Kyuhyun was right. Why _would_ a man like Lee Hyukjae give Donghae his namecard and expect him to call, if not for the fact that he was attracted to him? Donghae was nearly sold to the idea, except for the fact that he didn’t want to end up being some sort of gold digger. It was a shallow, superficial idea and it completely went against his morals. He sighed. He knew better than to debate the idea with his bespectacled buddy, though. Kyuhyun hated losing.

          “I guess I’ll think about it, Kyu,” he lied, running his fingers through his still wet hair. “Anyway, let’s change the topic. I’m turning twenty-seven in three days and you STILL haven’t told me whether you’ll be swinging by.”

     Kyuhyun shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with the webcam of his desktop monitor.

          “About that…” Kyuhyun’s voice, previously sounding ever so confident, now reeked of self-consciousness, trailing off.

     Donghae watched his best friend shift in his seat once more through the screen, doing everything to make the awkwardness that had thickened in the air between them dissipate except to explain himself. Donghae’s impatience grew with each second that ticked by. He leaned back in his chair, raising his eyebrows as if to prompt Kyuhyun to say something. Anything.

          “…I can’t come, Donghae. I’m really sorry. I’m visiting Irene’s parents in Gangnam.”

     Donghae remained indifferent to his best friend’s excuse. It wasn’t the first time he’d been ditched on his birthday anyway.

          “Ah yes, I almost forgot that you, my best friend, are a heterosexual male with an actual girlfriend that you, quite possibly, could someday _legally_ marry.” Donghae quipped, working hard at controlling his facial expression so as not to give his disappointment away.

     Kyuhyun sensed his sarcasm instantly. He was well aware that sarcasm was Donghae’s self-defence mechanism against anything that could render him vulnerable. He’d known the bloke for nearly half his life, and even if a huge chunk of his memory had been ripped apart from him in a terrible accident, he was still more or less the same Donghae he’d known since he was fourteen.

          “I’m sorwy, Donghae,” he teased, speaking in pout. “I’ll make it up to you, I pwomise.”

          “Fuck off.”

          “I wuv you too, Mr Grumps.”

     Just then, Kyuhyun’s attention shifted to something off-screen. He squinted his eyes towards something on the left of his desktop monitor and bit his lip.

          “Donghae, I’m gonna have to hang up,” he mumbled, picking his phone up. “Boyfriend duties.”

     Donghae rolled his eyes. “Alright. Bye Kyuhyun.”

          “Goodb—“

     Before Kyuhyun could properly bid his farewell, Donghae cut the call. He turned his MacBook off, folded it and got off his computer chair, aiming for the bed. Donghae dove under the covers, his body slowly giving way, until… _Fuck, what am I gonna do on my birthday? I’m not gonna wallow in self-pity all day again, am I? Jesus._ He closed his eyes, thinking of a plan. He couldn’t think of a single person to spend the day with, except—


	3. Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't you think it's really weird, at least from my perspective, that some random stranger approaches me out of nowhere near a waterfall; me of all people; tells me to call him, and later on tells me we were once lovers? And even if it was true how the hell did you know I was at the waterfall that day, or that I'm even here in Jeju in the first place? Are you some kind of professional stalker or something?"

     Donghae watched the surface of the ocean's water glisten in the sun in front of him, putting on a pair of shades. It was half past noon and an exceptionally hot day, which made Donghae extra grateful for the fact that he'd decided to leave the house dressed in a loose Hawaiian shirt, khaki-coloured bermuda shorts and sandals. Seeking refuge in the shade of a huge beach umbrella, he looked on as beachgoers basked in the sun; some of them went no further than where the sea and sand met, whereas others swam as far out as they could manage in a bid to cool off. As tempting as it was to strip down to his shorts and go for a swim, he had to wait— he'd been waiting for nearly half an hour but the man was nowhere to be seen. For some reason, however, his heart palpitated really quick.  _What am I so nervous for?_

          "I thought you'd never call."

     Hyukjae appeared from behind him at that very moment, shooting a grin in Donghae's direction. Donghae grinned back, and left his eyes to size up the auburn-haired man; he had dressed down for the occasion: his hair was still swept up in a faux mohawk, and he wore a loose white muscle tank that revealed his pale arms, and navy blue shorts. Donghae was only just noticing how thin the man was; he wasn't able to tell the first time they'd met since Hyukjae had dressed in a thick jumper then. Hyukjae sat on the beach chair next to Donghae's, leaving his slippers on the sand and propping his feet up, crossing at the ankles. He turned to face Donghae, grinning once more.

          "What took you so long?" Donghae asked, feigning annoyance.

          Hyukjae smiled faintly. "Business. I work at the—"

          "—at the resort," Donghae finished. "Monteview Stay Resort. I know."

          "Oh?" Hyukjae sat up.

     Hyukjae raised his brows in pleasant surprise, switching his sitting position. Now, his entire body faced Donghae, who was still sat in his beach chair facing the ocean. Donghae remained calm and collected, pretending not to notice. He didn't want Hyukjae to know that he'd run a background check on the man with his best friend several nights before. On the outside, he appeared relaxed, but in his mind, Donghae was scrambling for a way to cover his tracks.

          "You gave me your namecard, remember?"

     Hyukjae paused audibly while trying to recall whether he'd done that, before nodding briefly in acknowledgment.

          "Oh yeah. Sorry. I nearly forgot. I give my namecard out all the time. Hardly keep track of who I've given it too."

          Still facing the ocean, the tint of his shades darkening to match the intensity of the sun, Donghae reached for his pina colada on the small round table that divided their beach chairs. He took a sip before setting the glass back down on the table.

          "So anyway," he started, "tell me more about yourself. What are you here for? Purely for business? Will you be here long? And why did you approach me at the—"

          "Whoa, whoa, whoa," Hyukjae interjected, raising his hands in front of him, palms facing Donghae. "One at a time."

     Donghae bit his lip.

          "Sorry. Are you here purely for business?"

          Hyukjae nodded silently.

          "Okay," Donghae shifted his eyes, thrown off by the auburn-haired man's brief response. "How long will you be here for?"

          Hyukjae threw up two fingers in the air. "Two months."

     Donghae sighed, exasperated. He shot a look at Hyukjae.

          "What?"

          "Can't you at least  _sound_ like you're interested?"

     Hyukjae smoothed his hair. He smiled, this time smugly.

          "I  _am_ interested," he said, his voice quiet, "but not in talking about myself. Let's talk about you."

     Donghae shifted uncomfortably as Hyukjae leaned forward, his eyes glaring intently.  _If his eyes could emit laserbeams they'd be burning holes in me right about now,_ Donghae thought. He took a deep breath, trying as best as he could to remain calm despite the weird tension that started to thicken between them. Donghae sat up and changed his position. Now they were both sitting on their beach chairs facing inwards, looking at each other.

          "What do you wanna know?"

     Hyukjae bent forward, resting his chin on his palm. He pursed his lips together, before breaking into a soft smile.

          "How have you been?"

     Donghae, flustered at the sudden question about his well-being, picked up his pina colada, taking another sip. He bowed his head, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious. He didn't exactly like the attention, and wasn't fond about talking about himself either, to be honest. And besides, the only person who ever really checked on him was Kyuhyun, and they'd known each other since they were in their early teens. It felt strange hearing such a question from a total stranger. He hesitated.

     When Donghae didn't answer, Hyukjae's smile faded. A sincere look of concern appeared in its place. Hyukjae exhaled.

          "I know you don't remember me," he whispered, "but I never forgot you."

          "W-what?"

          "I never, not once, forgot you."

     Hyukjae began to fumble around in his pocket, pulling his wallet out. Donghae watched, eyes widened in confusion, as Hyukjae produced a photograph from his wallet. Biting his lower lip, he handed the photograph to Donghae. Donghae took his shades off, sliding them into the pocket of his bermuda shorts with his free hand.

 

     He stared. It was a photograph taken at one of those Japanese photobooths; the kind that allowed you to decorate the photo with cute digital stickers and scribbles before you opted to print the photograph out; and in it, there were two people. One of them, a raven-haired young man who appeared to be of around eighteen to nineteen years of age, was hugging another young man of about the same age. The latter had wavy, dark brown hair, like Donghae's. Donghae figured the raven-haired man had to be Hyukjae, for he possessed the same small eyes, button nose and lips that Hyukjae had, but he couldn't make out who the other man was. He scanned the man's features; he looked eerily like himself, but somehow, Donghae just couldn't make the connection. He could hardly remember anything from before he turned twenty, let alone whether or not it really was him in the picture. For all he knew, Hyukjae could have just been some creep who doctored a picture to make him think they'd known each other before he turned twenty. He was rich, afterall, and the rich, in Donghae's perspective, were capable of anything.  _But the question is, why?_

Hyukjae broke the silence. "We were in love once."

     Hairs on the back of Donghae's neck stood at once, as if the ghost of Christmas past had brushed arms with him in the form of Hyukjae. He felt torn between wanting to find out more, and not wanting to make a connection to what happened prior to the accident. He was afraid that there were things in his past that he'd be better off not knowing, and anyway, seven long years had passed since he lost his memory. Seven whole years. If Hyukjae had really been in love with him a long time ago, why did it take him so damn long to find him? He shuddered at the endless possibilities, and upon recollection of how lonely he had been for nearly the past decade.

          "I don't remember anything," Donghae stated flatly. "Also, I don't believe you."

     Hyukjae grimaced at the sharpness of Donghae's words, holding his hand out, prompting Donghae to give the photograph back to him. He quickly slipped it back into his wallet, stuffing the wallet into the back pocket of his shorts in silence. The words had hit him like daggers to the heart, and he wasn't quite sure what to say. Following the silence, Donghae mustered up the courage and continued.

          "Don't you think it's really weird, at least from my perspective, that some random stranger approaches me out of nowhere near a waterfall;  _me_ of all people; tells me to call him, and later on tells me we were once lovers? And even if it was true how the  _hell_ did you know I was at the waterfall that day, or that I'm even here in Jeju in the first place? Are you some kind of professional stalker or something?"

     In an attempt to explain himself, Hyukjae straightened his back and opened his mouth, only for Donghae to interrupt.

          "For all I know you could just be some psycho preying on single men who lived alone for  _god knows what reason_ and I just happened to be in your line of sight when you wanted to play—"

          "Shut up."

          "—this sick, weird game of Frighten The Brunette in Jeju and I—"  
  
          "I SAID SHUT UP."

     Passers-by turned, looking at the pair, shocked at Hyukjae's sudden outburst. Donghae too, had cowered at the outburst, keeping his head bowed. He dared not look Hyukjae, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Hyukjae breathing heavily, fists clenched. He immediately regretted being so brazen and harsh. He barely knew the man, and he had no clues whatsoever as to whether the man really was a part of his unknown past, aside from the photograph he had shown him earlier. And if he wasn't a part of the past then it made his outburst all the more frightening.  _What if he really is a psychopath?_

     Suddenly, Hyukjae stood up, taking a step forward and grabbing Donghae by the arm. He yanked him upwards, put on his slippers and prompted Donghae to do the same, and began to walk in the direction of the resort nearby,  _the resort he owned_ _,_ with Donghae in tow. People stared, more out of curiosity rather than concern, at the pair. Donghae tried to pull his arm away, but the auburn-haired man was strong.

          "Where are you taking me?!"

          "Just follow me. I wanna show you something."

     They kept walking. Donghae thought Hyukjae was taking him to the resort he owned, but when they kept walking further and further past the resort towards a single bungalow standing in solitude away from civilisation, he panicked and started to tug his arm out of Hyukjae's grip.

          "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Donghae yelled, rubbing his wrist after he finally broke free from Hyukjae.

     Hyukjae tilted his head back, rolling his eyes.

          "I'm taking you to our house."

          "What? _Our_ house? Are you fucking nuts?!"

          "JUST FOLOW ME, WON'T YOU? JESUS CHRIST YOU'RE A—"

          "Why the _fuck_ should I follow you to a creepy stand-alone house and let you murder me? What the fuck!"

 

     Upon hearing this, Hyukjae chortled. He laughed hard, bending forward. It made Donghae feel like a complete idiot, standing there, unsure of what to do. He felt a little sheepish, even.

          "Lee Donghae," Hyukjae said gently after he had calmed down. "you're still the same paranoid little shit I fell in love with all those years ago, you know that?"

     Donghae still didn't know how to react, growing increasingly nervous at Hyukjae's sudden switch of tone. Hyukjae, on the other hand, looked at the visibly shaken man and smiled reassuringly. He reached his hand out and placed it on Donghae's shoulder, causing the latter to wince. Hyukjae moved his hand from his shoulder to his chin, pushing upwards so that Donghae looked him directly in the face. He softened his expression.

          "I'm not going to murder you," he said calmly. "what I do wanna do, however, is help you remember your past...but only if you let me."

     Donghae darted his eyes, avoiding eye contact with the man who stood before him. They had wandered off to a part of the beach that was more secluded, away from tourists and beachgoers, and were not more than a hundred metres away from the house that Hyukjae, for some reason, called theirs. Mentally waving off all the possibilities of this auburn-haired man being after his blood, he nodded, albeit being slightly reluctant. Hyukjae smiled, releasing his hand from Donghae's chin.

          "Good. Now let's go; I've waited years to show you this."

 

* * *

 

     Upon entering the beige, two-storey house that overlooked the sea, Hyukjae removed his slippers, placing them in a shoe rack near the entrance of the main door. Donghae followed suit. The house was beautiful; it had a rustic feel to it, just the way Hyukjae liked it. The walls were covered from top to bottom in a greyish-white, brick patterned wallpaper, with beautiful paintings and photographs that had been framed up hung from the surfaces. The house was well-furbished to say the least; the furniture came in either black, brown or white and were mostly made out of wood, accentuating the vintage aesthetic that the decorator, mainly Hyukjae, was going for. Donghae walked around, scanning the walls until his eyes caught hold of a specific framed photograph on the wall. Next to a big, flatscreen television that had been mounted onto the wall, was a framed photo of the same young brunette Donghae had seen in the photograph Hyukjae kept in his wallet. The young brunette was sitting on a picnic mat in the middle of a grassy field, clad in a grey sweater and blue, acid-washed jeans. He was smiling, head tilted, at the photographer. Donghae reached his hand out, caressing the face of the brunette in the photograph, before touching his own face. This time, he was sure that that young brunette in the photograph in front of him, was him. It was like staring at his own reflection, except his reflection had aged backwards. It frustrated him, however, that he couldn't make any sense of the photograph.

          "Hyukjae ah," he called, his voice small. "Come here for a sec."

     Hyukjae, who had been arranging items on the dining table after they had entered the house, walked over.

          "What is it, Donghae?" He joined Donghae, who was standing in front of the large framed photograph of himself with a questionable look on his face.

     Donghae caressed the face of the young brunette in the photograph once more, swallowing. He turned to Hyukjae.

          "Hyukjae ah," he said once more, this time his voice smaller than before. "Is this me?"

     Hyukjae was flustered at how small Donghae suddenly appeared in his eyes. It was difficult trying to explain a person's past to the person himself, especially since he had no recollection of it. He knew that revealing too much about Donghae's past to him at once could possibly overwhelm him, so he kept it simple: he nodded.

          "It's you."

     Donghae took a step back, placing a finger on one of his temples, massaging it gently. He turned around and sat down on the beige-coloured couch, sinking into the fabric, leaving Hyukjae to stand in front of the framed photograph alone. Hyukjae glanced over at the man who now sat still on the couch, an unfathomable sadness washing over him. Donghae's face was sombre. He waited for Donghae to speak.

          "Hyukjae ah," Donghae called out for the third time, staring straight at the ground.

     Hyukjae turned on his heel and sat down next to Donghae, leaving a little bit of space in between them in case Donghae felt overwhelmed by it all—the photos, the memories,  _him_. There was a brief silence before them, causing Hyukjae to stir in his seat uncomfortably, before Donghae finished.

          "Tell me what you know about who I was before I lost my memory. Tell me about—" he paused briefly. "— _us._ "

     Hyukjae hesitated. He didn't know how much to share, and he worried that the overload of information would scare the poor man off. He had no idea what Donghae must have felt all those years after losing his memory, but what he did know is that he really wanted to help him remember. He gulped, mentally reminding himself to thread his words carefully.

          "Well..." Hyukjae cleared his throat. "For starters, I can only tell you what  _I_ know about you, and that means I'll only be able to tell you information beginning from when we met in high school. We went to the same high school in Busan. Dongcheon High."

     Hyukjae looked at Donghae for permission to continue. Donghae nodded.

          "We met when Kim Youngbae seonsaeng-nim forced us to be partners in a science class. It sounds really fucking stupid and cliché, but I fell in love at first sight. I didn't tell you, of course. We continued being partners for the rest of the semester, and then winter break came. That was when I gathered the courage to—" Hyukjae paused for a second, rubbing his index over his severely chapped lips as if in an attempt to smoothen the skin out. "—the courage to ask you out. Surprisingly, you said yes."

     Hyukjae gave Donghae some time to absorb the information. He watched as Donghae combed his fingers through his hair, his face as telling as a doll.

          "What happened next?"

          Hyukjae rubbed his neck, smiling at the memories that began to play in his mind. "Then we dated. In secret."

     Envy pooled in Donghae as he watched Hyukjae smile to himself. As nice as it was to see how happy the memories made the auburn-haired man, an ache sprouted in Donghae's chest.

          "Must be nice to be able to recall everything," Donghae mumbled, sounding defeated. "What else?"

          "Well, we had a lot of fun. We were so in love, Donghae. But then—" Hyukjae paused again, expression withering. "When we graduated from high school, you moved onto college with your best friend. I can't really remember his name. K-kyu..."

          "Kyuhyun," Donghae completed. "Did you go to college with us?"

          Hyukjae shook his head, frowning. "No, I didn't. My parents made me go to a college overseas. And just like that, we were separated; you in South Korea, and me in America. Before I left, I made a promise to you. I promised I'd write you, and that after the four long years of being away from you, I'd come back and find you. I kept to my promise."

          "You did?"

          "Yes, I did. Kind of. I wrote you as often as I could, and you even wrote back until one day, you stopped." Hyukjae hung his head, unable to look at Donghae. "I wrote to you a few days before your twentieth birthday, but you never wrote back. I thought I did something wrong, or  _worse,_ I thought you found someone else."

          Suddenly, Hyukjae got up and walked towards the television console. He bent down and pulled out a drawer, retrieving something from inside it. He stood up and returned to his seat next to Donghae, handing the item to Donghae. It was a newspaper clipping; a Korean newspaper clipping, and the heading of the article read:

 

**Family involved in freak hit-and-run accident; Parents killed, boy in critical condition.**

 

     Hyukjae pursed his lips together. There was a brief silence in the air that divided them again, but this time, it was caused by the tears that began welling up in Hyukjae's eyes. He tilted his head back in a bid to prevent them from falling, but they fell anyway. Donghae sat still, quiet and too shaken to move. His eyes kept scanning the content of the article, over and over until he understood what it was about. He looked at the photo featured in the article; it was a family photo, made up of, presumably, Donghae and his parents. In the photo, Donghae was sitting in between a man and woman who appeared to be in their late fourties. The three of them beamed widely at the camera. Donghae noticed how he had placed his hands on his parents' laps in the photo, and upon noticing that, a painful ache filled his chest once again. That same sense of longing that he'd been experiencing for the last seven lonesome years, had gotten stronger than ever before. Looking at the photo in the article had somehow caused a voice in his head to echo repeatedly.  _They're gone,_ it said.  _Your parents are gone. You have no one now._

Donghae's stare was blank. It scared Hyukjae, and immediately he wondered if he should have kept the article hidden from him for a bit longer. Afterall, he didn't know what Donghae had already found out about his past, and what he hadn't.

          "I'm sorry," Hyukjae apologised. "I'm really, _really_ sorry. I said too much."

          "No, don't say sorry. Tell me more," Donghae said, his voice low. "please."

     Hyukjae observed Donghae's expression carefully, contemplating whether or not to continue. He couldn't help but to notice how visibly shaken Donghae was. Despite the emotionless look on his face, the newspaper clipping pinched between Donghae's fingers began to crease from the tightness of his grip. Hyukjae reached his hand out, placing it on Donghae's arm gently so as not to startle him. After a few seconds, Donghae relaxed his shoulders, followed by his grip on the clipping, the tension slowly escaping his being. Hyukjae took this as a green light to continue, this time being even more careful with his choice of words.

          "I printed this article from a Korean news site. A friend from our high school had given me the link to it via e-mail. That was how I realised that the reason you stopped replying to my letters and picking up my video calls, was because you simply  _couldn't_."

     Donghae didn't move at all. There were far too many thoughts circling around in the depths of his mind for him to even pick one to focus on. A throbbing headache took over, causing Donghae to drop the newspaper clipping and raise his hands towards his temples, massaging his head. Perhaps he had overestimated himself. Perhaps all of this was too much to take in. However, Donghae knew that all of this was essential information, and that in order for him to figure out who he was before the accident, he had to hear it. All of it. He calmed himself down, closing his eyes, mentally counting until he felt ready to speak again. It didn't take long before he did.

          "How did all of this make you feel?" he asked, blinking back tears.

     Hyukjae hung his head slowly, withdrawing his hand from Donghae's arm.

          "Hurt." Hyukjae began to pinch and scratch at the fabric of his shorts. "I thought I lost you forever."

      _But you didn't._ Donghae shifted in his seat and began to move closer to the auburn-haired man who couldn't bring himself to face him. He ran his fingers over the man's lap and found his way to his hand, holding it tightly. Donghae forced a faint smile onto his face, squeezing Hyukjae's hand.

          Hyukjae looked up.

          "Thank you."

          Hyukjae shook his head. "You shouldn't be thanking me, really. I'm just glad that after nearly eight, excruciatingly long years, I found you again. I'm so, so glad. You have no idea."

     Donghae smiled thinly. In some odd way, even though he had only met this man several days before, his presence was comforting. It definitely felt better knowing that he wasn't alone anymore, and although this man was still technically a stranger to him despite the history they might have had before he lost his memory, he convinced himself that he was okay. He was okay with the presence of this man. He was okay with everything the man had just shared. Most importantly, he was okay with letting the man help him remember the part of his life that he struggled to recollect. Donghae sobered up, squeezing Hyukjae's hand once more.

          "Well this is a shitty way to spend a birthday."

          Hyukjae turned, confused. "Birthday? It's your birthday?"

          "You're not a very good lover, are you?" Donghae joked.

     Hyukjae cracked a smile in response, checking his phone. 15th October.

          "Shit. I totally forgot. Looks like we're gonna have to have lunch  _and_ dinner together then, huh."

     Donghae laughed.

          "I guess so."


	4. Restart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donghae continued to gloss his eyes over the clothing pieces, grinning to himself. It made Kyuhyun feel extremely content seeing his best friend this elated, although it really didn't take much for him to have picked the gift for him. He'd known Donghae for roughly thirteen years by now, so figuring out what his best friend would like came naturally to him. He had always been protective of Donghae, and all the more so after he lost his memory. He would do anything to ensure that his best friend was safe and happy, which brought him to his hidden agenda of meeting Donghae that day.

_Jeju had always been quiet at night, and it was especially so tonight. By half past nine the streets of Jeju were empty, and any person on foot would have had nothing but the street lamps as company. Thankfully, Donghae's family had their own car, so there was no need for them to walk an inch. They drove steadily on the bumpy roads of Jeju, making their way to Seogwipo. The holidays had arrived and the Lees had made it a tradition to drive from their main house in Busan, Seoul to their holiday house in Seogwipo, Jeju to spend time together away from the bustling city life. Donghae sat in the backseat alone, holding onto the corners of both his parents' seats as he peered through the windshield. The family had been in the car for nearly the entire day, making pitstops every now and then to use the restroom or get snacks._

_"Appa, are we reaching anytime soon?" Donghae asked, glancing at his watch. "My favourite show starts in twenty minutes."_

_Donghae's father squinted, looking at his son through the rear-view mirror, keeping his hands firmly gripped onto the steering wheel._

_"We'll be there in fifteen, Donghae," was his father's firm reply._

_Stirring uncomfortably in his seat, Donghae sighed. The last episode of his favourite drama, 'The 1st Shop of Coffee Prince', was due to air that night, and Donghae wanted to catch it upon being aired. He hated being left out of the loop on the latest episodes of his favourite television shows and a re-run of the episode probably wouldn't be telecasted anytime soon. Donghae's mother smiled, turning her head to look at her only son, who was sulking away. The sight of her son's pout made her nearly forget that the boy was turning twenty soon._

_"Donghae ah, isn't it more important that we arrive at the house safely?" she nagged, her voice as motherly as it could possibly get._

_"Yes, eomma, but I really need to find out what happens to Yoon Eunhye's character in the last episode," Donghae answered as if to justify his bratty behaviour. "I made a bet with Kyuhyun that her character is going to die. Money's on the line, eomma."_

_Donghae's mother watched as the boy heaved another sigh, resting his head on one hand while tapping his fingers on his lap with his other hand. She shook her head, breaking out in a soft smile. Donghae may have been turning twenty soon, but in her eyes, he was still the same baby boy that she had cradled and cared for since 1986._

_Just then, the car's headlights began to flicker. Donghae perked up instantly, a sudden wave of anxiousness washing over him._

_"Appa, w-what's happening?" he asked, his voice quivering slightly._

_His father continued to steer the wheel, following the bendy roads of Jeju despite what was happening to the headlights._

_"It's nothing," he reassured, keeping a straight face. "Maybe the bulbs are nearly out."_

_Donghae's mother turned around, forcing a smile to calm her panicked son._

_"Don't worry, Donghae," she comforted. "we're almost the—"_

_All of a sudden, the car was blinded by a bright light coming from the opposite direction. A loud horn blared at them repetitively and in seconds the sight of a black SUV charging unsteadily towards them forced Donghae's father into swerving the car to avoid collision. However, it was too late. The SUV collided into the side of the Lees' family car, causing the car to swerve left and overturn several times. Shrill cries of hysteria and panic filled both the car and the quiet roads of Jeju; house lights had begun to flicker on upon the sounds of tyres screeching and cars crashing and—_

 

          "NOOOOOO!"

     Donghae's eyes shot open. He gripped the sheets beneath him, beads of perspiration trickling down his forehead as his heart raced like the beat of a drum. He stared at the ceiling, panting. It took him a while to realise that he had just had a nightmare. It was the same recurring nightmare that he had had for the last seven or so years. By now Donghae had grown so accustomed to it that he no longer cried upon waking up. Instead, he sat up, throwing his face into his hands, his head throbbing. He looked at the analog clock on his bedside table and read the time: 3:27 AM. Donghae had gotten home no more than two hours ago. He was still in a dress shirt and formal pants, his tie hanging loosely around his neck. He had spent the night having dinner at a restaurant with Hyukjae, followed by a little drinking spree in celebration of his birthday. He was the only one who drank, however.  _I don't drink and I never will; I was never allowed to,_ Hyukjae had explained as he watched Donghae down a couple of shots.

     Once he had gotten a hold of his breath, Donghae clambered out of bed and made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the tap and ran a bath for himself, pouring a lavender-scented liquid into the bath tub before proceeding to undress himself. Once the bath was ready, he climbed into the tub, groaning from the throbbing headache. The warm, soapy water blanketed him, lapping at his skin. Donghae tried to fight off the hangover, struggling to recall what had happened moments before arriving home. He remembered Hyukjae sending him to his doorstep. He remembered the auburn-haired man asking for permission to stay the night, and him denying him the chance to. He also remembered how he had stolen a kiss on the cheek to, in his words, "make up for loss time". Donghae groaned once more, this time at the recollection of what happened before he had gone to bed.  _Why did I let him kiss me,_ he asked himself, hitting his head in frustration.  _Aren't I being too easy?_ He slid down the bathtub, continuing to soak in the water as he mentally cussed at himself.

 

* * *

 

     Early the next day, there was a knock on the door. Donghae, who had already gotten up, rushed to get it. He wasn't expecting anybody, so the sound of a visitor made him both anxious and relieved. Afterall, he was still recovering from a hangover, and had started to feel lonely. Donghae unlatched the door, turning the handle before pulling it open.

          "Good morning!"

     Donghae opened his mouth in shock at the sight of the man standing in front of him.

          "Kyuhyun ah!" he exclaimed, embracing his best friend tightly. "What are you doing here?"

     Kyuhyun, who was dressed to the nines in a white dress shirt, grey vest, matching pants and a navy blue blazer slung over one arm, removed his shoes and stepped into the house. He set a white paper bag onto the dining table before sitting on the couch, quickly making himself feel at home. He grinned as his friend started towards the kitchen, scrambling for all the things he needed to make his best friend some tea.

          "I'm here to visit you, of course!" Kyuhyun answered, making sure his voice was loud enough for Donghae to hear from the kitchen. "I felt bad for not being able to spend your birthday with you so I decided to surprise you. Knowing your boring ass, I bet you didn't make any plans for today."

     Donghae emerged from the kitchen with a tray seconds later, setting it onto the coffee table in front of the couch. He stirred the teapot before pouring piping hot tea into the two teacups he had washed in the kitchen earlier on.

          "Don't lie to me," he joked, scanning Kyuhyun from head to toe. "You wouldn't dress up like this for  _me_. Tell me the real reason why you're here."

     Kyuhyun tut-tutted disapprovingly, taking a sip from one of the teacups.

          "Why do you always make me sound like an asshole?"

          Donghae smirked. "Simple, it's because you  _are_ an asshole. Every fibre of your being makes you an asshole."

          "True," Kyuhyun agreed. "but not today! Today,  _I'm_ taking  _you_ on a belated birthday date. Your outfit is in the white bag I put on the dining table."

     Donghae glanced over at the white paper bag that Kyuhyun brought. He furrowed his brows.

          "It better not be something stupid," he warned, "or else I _will not hesitate_ to kill you."

     Kyuhyun gasped and pretended to choke on his tea, setting the teacup down. Then he stood up, walked over to the dining table and picked up the white paper bag before retreating back to the couch. Kyuhyun overturned the bag, emptying its contents onto the couch. Out fell a white dress shirt identical to his own, and an olive green blazer and tapered pants. Donghae's mouth fell open.

          "Still think it's stupid?" Kyuhyun snickered, leaning back with his arms outstretched.

     Donghae picked up the clothing articles one at a time, his face filled with gratitude. He ran his fingers over the fabric of the blazer before folding it and placing it on his lap.

          "Oh my god," he started, "it's been a long time since I dressed up at all. I fucking love them. Plus, you picked both the pants and blazer in my favourite colour."

          "Well, happy belated birthday, kiddo," Kyuhyun replied simply, the corners of his lips ascending into a smile.

     Donghae continued to gloss his eyes over the clothing pieces, grinning to himself. It made Kyuhyun feel extremely content seeing his best friend this elated, although it really didn't take much for him to have picked the gift for him. He'd known Donghae for roughly thirteen years by now, so figuring out what his best friend would like came naturally to him. He had always been protective of Donghae, and all the more so after he lost his memory. He would do anything to ensure that his best friend was safe and happy, which brought him to his hidden agenda of meeting Donghae that day.

          "Anyway, Donghae," Kyuhyun began, combing his fingers through his hair. "How was your birthday?"

     Interlacing his fingers, Donghae beamed. 

          "It was good."

          "I'm gonna need way more than that, my friend " Kyuhyun quipped. "Spill the beans."

     Shrugging his shoulders, Donghae tilted his head and sighed.

          "I don't know what you want me to say."

          "Don't make me _make_   _you_ say it," Kyuhyun warned.

          "Okay, okay, fine, jesus," Donghae surrendered, rolling his eyes. "I had lunch with Hyukjae..."

          "And?"

          "...and dinner."

          "I'm  _waiting_."

     Donghae threw his head back, inhaling and exhaling deeply. He turned to look at the raven-haired man seated next to him.

          "And I found out a shit ton of stuff from before I lost my memory," he concluded, looking out for Kyuhyun's reaction.

     Kyuhyun didn't react, though. Instead, he picked up his teacup, finished the tea and stared back at Donghae, waiting for him to share more information on what had happened the previous day. He  _really_ wanted to know what the brunette had gotten up to on the day he turned twenty-seven, and would not drop the topic even if his life depended on it. He knew his best friend too well and doubted that Donghae had spent the day so uneventfully. And so he waited for an explanation. Donghae, knowing this, thought carefully about what he should and should not reveal to his best friend of thirteen years. He reached beneath the coffee table, taking out a small, brown box that had a bow on its lid.

          "Apparently, according to Hyukjae," Donghae said as he opened the lid of the box, revealing a stack of polaroids. "we were lovers."

     Kyuhyun choked on his saliva and started coughing violently.

          "What?!"

          "Yeah, and that's not all. He told me that we knew each other from high school. Apparently we went to the same high school and began dating secretly after a few months of knowing each other."

     Donghae started to take the polaroids out of box one at a time, before handing them to Kyuhyun. There were five in total, and all of them featured the same couple; one of them, a raven-haired adolescent man that couldn't have been any older than twenty, and the other, Kyuhyun recognised, was Donghae. Donghae continued to explain.

          "He told me that we were separated after graduation because his parents made him further his studies overseas. He even mentioned how I moved on to college with you. He knows your name, Kyuhyun."

     Kyuhyun's eyes rolled up and he started to think about what Donghae had just said. It didn't make sense to him.

          "Donghae, you  _know_ that doesn't make sense. If you guys had known each other and even  _dated_ in high school, don't you think I'd have known about it? Don't you think I'd have at least recognised his face when I found his picture in that online article? C'mon, I've known you since we were  _fourteen_."

     Donghae shrugged. The man had a point; he always did; but Donghae didn't have enough information about himself to confirm or deny anything. Considering the fact that more than half of his memory had been wiped out and he had no surviving family members to help him remember, the only information Donghae could rely on to make any sense of his forgotten past, was whatever Kyuhyun had told him about himself, and whatever Hyukjae had revealed the previous night, and would be revealing in the days to come. Donghae tried to reason with his best friend using what little information he had.

          "Well, he did say we dated in secret. He didn't tell me why we dated in secret, though."

          "Uh, maybe it's because South Korea's a nut and gay men can't be out in public without the entire world coming after their blood?" Kyuhyun suggested patronisingly.

          "Maybe," Donghae contemplated, his voice quiet, "or maybe nobody knew we were gay."

     Kyuhyun grimaced, looking thoroughly insulted.

          "What are you talking about?!  _I_ knew you were gay!"

          "Yeah, but have you always known?"

          "What?"

          "I'm asking you," Donghae repeated, "if you've always known."

     Kyuhyun was silent. This time it was Donghae's turn to pick up his teacup and sip at the cold tea, waiting expectantly. Kyuhyun's face had contorted into an odd expression, and Donghae couldn't read it. He waited patiently for Kyuhyun to come up with an answer. Kyuhyun, on the other hand, was flipping through the polaroids one at a time, trying really hard to recall whether or not he had ever seen the face of the youth hugging young Donghae in real life before. He kept thinking for a bit more, before placing all the polaroids back into the empty brown box that was now on the coffee table.

          "Ah," he piped, as if he had reached an epiphany. "I think I know why I don't know who this Lee Hyukjae bloke is."

     Kyuhyun paused, looking at Donghae.

          "I  _think_ it's because you only came out of the closet on your twenty-second birthday..."

     Donghae set his teacup onto the table, reaching for the teapot. He poured some tea into the cup and took a sip.

          "...but  _why?_ "

     As Donghae took sip after sip of tea, Kyuhyun kept thinking.

          "Don't you think it's weird you kept your relationship with Hyukjae; not forgetting your sexuality; a secret from me?" Kyuhyun questioned. "Me, of all people. I find the whole thing really suspicious, and I'm seriously worried this guy isn't all you think he is. Were you two really in a relationship, or did he make this shit up?"

     Kyuhyun covered the box and returned it to its position beneath the coffee table. He shuddered.

          "You know what? Fuck it. Let's not think about it. It's making my brain hurt," he said firmly before pointing to the clothes that he had bought for his best friend. "Go and get dressed, loser. I'm here for a good time, not a long time, and  _definitely_ not to analyse the bloke whose dick you sucked."

          "Okay  _first of all—_ "

          "Shut up."

     Kyuhyun pulled his best friend off the couch with one arm and grabbed the clothes with the other before shoving them both into Donghae's bedroom.

          "I'm giving you half an hour to get ready, or else I'm leaving. We have a looooooong day ahead of us."

     Kyuhyun shut the bedroom door. On the other side, Donghae sighed. He undressed himself, putting on the clothes Kyuhyun had gotten him instead.  _I really fucking wish I knew who I was and what happened before I lost my memory,_ he thought.


	5. Take It Slow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just then, the doorbell rang. Hyukjae froze in his tracks, briefly glancing at the clock on the wall at the end of the hallway: it was 2:43 AM. What the fuck, he cussed internally, before deciding to pretend nothing had happened. He took a few steps forward before the doorbell rang again.....and again.....and again and again. Hyukjae tutted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DISCLAIMER: This chapter contains sexual content. You can skip this chapter if you'd like; it isn't important to the main storyline. You'll still be able to understand the flow of the story without this chapter (but hey, everyone loves smut).

     Hyukjae cracked a cold can of beer open and gulped down its content, ending things off with a satisfied burp. He threw the empty can into the bin before returning to the fridge to replenish his stock. Armed with a brand new can of beer and a bag of his favourite chips, Hyukjae walked to the living room and settled on the couch, setting his ammunition on the table top in front of him. He reached for the remote control and fumbled with the buttons, turning on the television. The screen lit up, and the image of a young Korean couple filled the screen.

          "I'll always remember you," whispered the male lead, pressing his lips against the female lead's forehead, "and I hope you'll always remember me."

     Hyukjae sniggered, cracking open his second can of beer for the night.  _I'm the only one who remembers_ _,_ he thought to himself as he downed the cold beverage, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. As hard as it had been resigning to fate, Hyukjae had accepted the fact that Donghae no longer knew or loved him like he used to all those years ago. He didn't, however, know how exactly he would go about going regaining the man's love and trust. The concept of going from strangers to lovers and back to strangers again itself was normal; everyone experiences heartbreak at least once in their lives; but Hyukjae's dilemma was far more complicated. How do you regain the trust of someone who had once been head over heels in love with you, who got into an accident, lost his memory and in the process, lost his love for you? How do you learn to accept the possibility that you might never get that love back, even if the person reappears in front of you after nearly a decade? All of this stressed Hyukjae out.

     Instead of fretting, Hyukjae decided to rip the bag of chips open and binge eat, leaning back and propping his legs onto the table top. It had been an extremely long day for him: daytime had been spent attending to clients back to back at the resort and handling customers' complaints, whereas at night, Hyukjae had busied himself by rearranging the decorative frames on the wall space surrounding the television. The picture of sweet, young Donghae that was previously hung next to the flatscreen television had been replaced by a framed, detailed sketch of himself. It was the sketch Donghae had drawn of him when they met for the first time in nearly seven years at Jeongbang waterfalls. Donghae had given it to him at dinner on his birthday the previous night, and it had now become Hyukjae's second most prized possession. His first most prized possession, however, struggled to remember his existence.

     Almost an hour later, Hyukjae decided to call it a day. He picked the empty beer can and bag of chips up off the table and tossed them into the kitchen bin before dragging his feet to his bedroom sleepily. Just then, the doorbell rang. Hyukjae froze in his tracks, briefly glancing at the clock on the wall at the end of the hallway: it was 2:43 AM.  _What the fuck,_ he cussed internally, before deciding to pretend nothing had happened. He took a few steps forward before the doorbell rang again.....and again.....and again and again. Hyukjae tutted.

          "Whoever the _fuck_ it is better have a good explanation for coming here in the dead of night," he muttered to himself, making a U-turn.

     Hyukjae walked to the front door and squinted his eyes in an attempt to find out who the doorbell-ringing delinquent was. He looked through the peephole for a few seconds before a strange sense of relief and confusion washed over him like a tidal wave. He opened the door.

 

     Donghae fell forward into his arms, his body limp. Quick-thinking Hyukjae hooked his arms underneath the  _presumably_ drunken man's armpits and lifted him, dragging him over to the couch. After he had managed to get Donghae to lie down, he retreated back to the front door, shutting it and then latching the lock. Donghae was mumbling to himself. Hyukjae approached the couch slowly, scanning the drunken man from head to toe. He had styled his dark brown hair in a messy pompadour and worn a flattering olive green suit with a clean white dress shirt underneath. His normally sun-kissed skin had now been tainted red, probably from excessive drinking. The moonlight that crept into the room from the window shone on his face, bringing attention to his distinct features. Donghae, albeit being drunk, looked like a saint, at least in Hyukjae's eyes, and it tempted Hyukjae to touch him. Hyukjae gulped.

          "C'mere," Donghae slurred, raising a limp arm into the air, motioning for Hyukjae to come towards him.

     Almost instantly, Hyukjae walked towards the man and knelt at the end of the couch where Donghae's head was. He brushed his fingers through Donghae's hair, prompting a faint smile to emerge across Donghae's face in response.

          "I love you," Donghae whispered, his voice small. " I always have."

     Hyukjae paused. He knew that Donghae was drunk, and that he couldn't have possibly been confessing. Anything that came out of his mouth at this hour and in this state, had to purely be a result of the drunkenness. There was a small possiblity of Donghae meaning what he'd said since, as the saying goes, people tend to speak the truth when drunk. However Hyukjae refused to get his hopes up. He brushed his fingers through Donghae's hair once more before smiling thinly.

          "You're drunk, Donghae."

          "I'm— I'm n-not drunk," Donghae stammered, beginning to sit up slowly.

     Hyukjae attempted to help the man up, but Donghae lost his balance and tumbled back down onto the couch soon after. He massaged his temples, groaning.

          "I'm gonna help you get your shoes off and get you changed, and then I'll let you sleep in my bed for the night, okay?" Hyukjae pre-empted, even though he knew Donghae could barely process anything he himself had said, let alone what Hyukjae was saying to him.

     Hyukjae scooped Donghae off the couch, bridal carrying him to his bedroom. Once they'd entered the room, he laid Donghae down on the bed gently and proceeded to take off his shoes and socks. Hyukjae organised them on the floor next to the bedroom door neatly, and then continued by helping Donghae out of his blazer, dress shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers. He took a step back, his eyes trailing across every inch of Donghae's almost naked body. Seconds passed before he forced himself out of his trance. He pursed his lips.

          "Donghae ah," he called, his voice gentle. "I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight, okay? Call for me if you need me."

     Hyukjae reached out in an attempt to pull the duvet over Donghae, when out of nowhere, Donghae grabbed his arm. Hyukjae froze again at the touch of the man, watching Donghae's sleepy eyes blink slowly.

          "Stay," he uttered, barely releasing his grip on Hyukjae's wrist. "I've waited so many years to have you."

     Hesitating at first, Hyukjae soon climbed into the bed, lying next to Donghae. He laid there rigidly in hopes that Donghae would fall back asleep. He kept reminding himself that Donghae was hammered, and that the two of them had gone back to square one of being complete strangers that were picking up broken pieces at their own, steady pace. As tempted as he was, he had to control himself. The man was drunk and regardless of whether or not they were lovers, Hyukjae had no right over his body. He laid there, stiff, waiting.

     Suddenly, Donghae rolled over, sliding his arm through the armhole of Hyukjae's singlet and across his chest, sending shivers down Hyukjae's spine. He moved closer to Hyukjae, one inch at a time, his face eventually ending up next to his. Donghae began to nuzzle against Hyukjae's cheek with his nose. Hyukjae could feel Donghae's lips break into a small smile.

          "You know what to do," Donghae purred coquettishly, rubbing his thumb across Hyukjae's chest.

     Hyukjae's heart raced. He peered at the brunette, biting his lip. Then, Donghae began to plant soft kisses on Hyukjae's cheek while trailing his fingers across Hyukjae's chest. Blood rushed to Hyukjae's face, and to his— his manhood, the thickness of it straining against the waistband of his briefs. He swallowed.

          "No, D-Donghae, I c-can't," he stuttered, wincing. "You're drunk."

     Donghae grinned coyly. In one swift movement, he got up and began to straddle Hyukjae, leaning forward to plant kisses along the auburn-haired man's jawline. Hyukjae caved at the man's touch. His breathing got louder and harder, erupting into a moan when Donghae's lips finally found his neck. Donghae licked and sucked, panting heavily as he did so. He trailed soft kisses down Hyukjae's neck steadily and slowly, before pressing his lips against Hyukjae's in a desperate kiss. Hyukjae moaned and Donghae, taking advantage of the man's parted lips, pushed his tongue into Hyukjae's mouth. Their lips and tongues moved as one, arousing Hyukjae so much that he could feel a drop of pre-cum pool at the tip of his erect cock. Seconds later, Donghae broke the kiss, straightening his back. He began to untie the drawstring of Hyukjae's shorts, grinding against him in the process.

     Hyukjae looked at the man fumble as he pulled down his shorts. He felt so, so good but at the same time, it felt so _wrong_.

          "Do you really wanna fuck me that badly?" he asked, only half-expecting his rhetorical question to be answered.

     Donghae shifted, pulling Hyukjae's shorts and briefs off beneath him. He tossed them onto the floor, his tired eyes still blinking slowly. Donghae then moved to the lower end of the bed, positioning his head in front of Hyukjae's swollen shaft. He smiled slyly. Donghae began to lap at Hyukjae's cock, at first gently, before picking up the pace. He bobbed his head back and forth, causing ripples of sensual moaning to erupt from Hyukjae. Then he paused, gliding his tongue over the protruding veins on the underside of his cock. It drove Hyukjae crazy. Hyukjae arched his back, gripping the sheets as Donghae quickened his pace. Panting heavily, Hyukjae thrusted his shaft into Donghae's mouth, grabbing a handful of the brunette's hair before—

          "Fuck!"

     Unable to withstand even a second longer, Hyukjae climaxed. A warm liquid shot into Donghae's mouth, causing the brunet to choke and cough. Swallowing, Donghae collapsed on top of Hyukjae, both of them heaving in an attempt to regain control over their breaths. The adrenaline rush that had escalated and pumped through their veins left as quickly as it had come, and in its place, exhaustion overcame the two. They fell asleep in each other's arms, their sweaty bodies pressed against each other.


	6. Inhibition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the hell am I, he wondered, massaging his temples in a poor attempt to nurse his throbbing headache. He tried his hardest to recall the misadventures of his previous night; all he could remember was that Kyuhyun was the last person he had been with, and that he may have had one too many drinks. Could it be that he had somehow ended up at the house of another one of his one-night stands? Swallowing, he looked beneath the thick comforter that covered the lower half of his body. He was naked. Completely naked. Fuck.

     Bright rays of sunlight peeked through the pastel blue curtains of the bedroom, highlighting Donghae's sun-kissed skin. Birds were chirping in the distance, filling the otherwise still air with sounds of nature. Lying face down in the pillow, Donghae managed a groan before turning over. He wanted to sleep for a bit more but the light that illuminated the room was too glaring to ignore. Slowly, Donghae opened his eyes. He squinted and began to analyse his surroundings, none of which was familiar to him. The walls had been painted a soft creamish beige and was decorated with abstract paintings that he couldn't decipher, and the bed he laid in had a tall, wooden post at each corner and a white, flowy fabric draped across the top, hanging down at the sides of the bed, forming a canopy.  _Where the hell am I,_ he wondered, massaging his temples in a poor attempt to nurse his throbbing headache. He tried his hardest to recall the misadventures of his previous night; all he could remember was that Kyuhyun was the last person he had been with, and that he  _may_ have had one too many drinks. Could it be that he had somehow ended up at the house of another one of his one-night stands? Swallowing, he looked beneath the thick comforter that covered the lower half of his body. He was naked. Completely naked.  _Fuck._

     Donghae got out of bed, frantic. His clothes had been thrown into a rattan basket on the floor next to the bedroom door, and his shoes and socks were arranged next to the basket neatly. Donghae scrambled to put on his clothes, not wanting to cause a scene. The last thing he wanted was for the owner of the house to catch him as he was leaving; he hated the awkward, forced conversations that preceded the walk of the shame the most. He pulled up his pants and buttoned it before picking up the rest of his clothes, shoes and socks. Then he opened the bedroom door, a mouth-watering scent wafting out the kitchen. Donghae took a few steps forward before something—two things, actually—made him stop dead in his tracks.

          "You're awake."

     The first thing that had seized any form of urgency to leave the house from Donghae, was the auburn-haired man that had appeared a few feet ahead of him in nothing but a frilly pink apron, and checkered boxers, with a spatula in one hand. The second was the appearance of the living room behind him. Donghae soon realised that he hadn't just woken up at any random stranger's house like he had every other time he'd decided to go intoxicate himself; he had woken up at Hyukjae's, no,  _their_ house.

     Donghae walked towards the couch and sat down, sinking into the fabric. He slid his arms into his crumpled white dress shirt and buttoned it slowly, still unable to make sense of how he'd ended up here. Hyukjae, who had disappeared into the kitchen, reemerged moments later with a tall stack of pancakes and a jug of orange juice. He set it on the dining table behind the couch before arranging empty plates, glasses and utensils on tablemats for the two of them to have breakfast together.

          "Hae," Hyukjae called out gently. "Let's eat."

     Buckling his belt, Donghae turned to face Hyukjae, trying as best as he could to hide the embarassment that must've glowed from his face like a hazard light. He stood up and walked towards the dining table, leaving the rest of his things sprawled across the floor in front of the couch. His eyes darted left and right in a desperate attempt to avoid the gaze of auburn-haired Hyukjae.

          "Hyukjae ah," Donghae cleared his throat, taking a seat in front of one of the plates that Hyukjae had set, "could you please explain to me how.....how I ended up here?"

     Hyukjae froze in the middle of pouring orange juice into the two glasses he'd placed on the table.

          "You don't remember," he uttered, deadpan. It was more of a statement than a question, to be honest.

     Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Donghae reached out, taking the jug of orange juice from Hyukjae's hands. He was sure that if he hadn't done so the man would've just kept on pouring, glasses filling up and juice spilling everywhere. He placed the jug on the table and pursed his lips. The man in front of him looked distraught for some odd reason, and it perplexed him greatly.  _Isn't it me who should be flustered?_ He thought.

          "You don't...remember..." Hyukjae repeated.

     Hyukjae began to untie his frilly pink apron. He slung it over the top rail of his chair, his eyes unfocused, before staring hard into the void ahead of him for at least a good ten, twenty seconds. It felt like  _forever_ to Donghae. Out of nowhere, a sense of uneasiness washed over Donghae like a tidal wave.

          "Lee Hyukjae."

          "H-huh?"

     Breaking out of his trance, Hyukjae's eyes trailed over his own arm, halting where the skin on the tip of Donghae's fingers met with the surface of his wrist. He looked at Donghae, who had been looking back at him with his head tilted, concerned. Hyukjae swallowed, leaning back in his chair.

          "Sorry," he apologised.

     Following the awkwardness that was starting to build up in the air between them, Hyukjae quickly began to transfer a few pancakes onto the empty plate in front of Donghae with a fork, stretching his lips into a thin smile in a bid to ward off the tension. Donghae, on the other hand, looked on in silence, giving the man ample time to string his thoughts into words. As inhibited as he was, he wasn't sure if breaking the silence would be a good idea, and so he waited. An entire minute passed. Nothing happened. Hyukjae had even begun to cut into his share of pancakes, eating in quietude. The stillness in the air, however, was beginning to wear Donghae's patience thin.

          "Hyukjae." Donghae called out again, this time his voice colder than before, breaking the silence. "Tell me why I'm here."

     Hyukjae flinched.

          "Well, for starters," he began with a small, almost quiet voice, setting his fork down, "you came here on your own."

     He looked up at Donghae, wide-eyed.

          "Don't you remem—"

          "No," Donghae intercepted quickly, frowning, "no, I don't."

          "Tell me what you remember of last night then."

     Donghae bowed his head in shame upon not being able to recall anything much about the previous night, apart from the fact that he had spent most of it with his best friend, Kyuhyun.

          "I don't know," he shrugged, the quiver in his voice indicating uncertainty. "I can only remember Kyuhyun coming over to have a belated birthday celebration with me. We drank a lot. I don't remember the rest."

          "Huh," Hyukjae snorted, unamused. "So you don't remember anything you said last night?"

          "Not a single thing."

          "What about the things you did immediately after stepping into this house? Do you remember any of it at all?"

     Donghae could sense desperation in the man's tone, but again, he had no choice but to shrug. He couldn't recall a thing.

          "No," he replied, feeling self-conscious. "What did I do?"

     Hyukjae bit his bottom lip, contemplating whether or not to tell the brunet the truth. Instead, he picked up his knife and fork, cutting into his food again, avoiding eye contact.

          "Nothing much," he lied. "You came over and said you were tired. I helped you undress, and then you crashed. That's all."

     Donghae heaved a sigh of relief.

          "Thank god. I was beginning to think I did something stupid."

     Hyukjae scoffed, stuffing his mouth with food. A strange and unfamiliar ache began to pool in his chest.

          "Don't worry, you didn't do anything  _stupid,_ per se," he lied again. "Let's just quickly eat breakfast so you can head home and I can make my way to the resort, okay? I've got a lot of thinking to do."

     Donghae nodded.


	7. Mindgames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hyukjae's eyes began to lose focus as thoughts of what had happened the previous night began to replay in his mind, drowning out the noise around him. He looked at his wrist longingly, the ghost of Donghae's touch still fresh in his memory. Stay, Donghae had whispered, I've waited so many years to have you. Hyukjae closed his eyes, letting his mind take control. The memory of how Donghae had snaked his arm across his chest and planted soft kisses along his jawline and cheek sent chills down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing in response. A physical ache began to manifest in his chest. Why don't I feel happy? He asked himself, frowning. I found him. I finally found him. He even told me he loves me. What more do I want?

     Time check: 11:26 AM. In about four minutes, Lee Sora would walk into the conference room and begin the meeting. Ever since she had taken over Monteview Stay Resort's Jejudo branch eight years back, she had made it a point to conduct monthly meetings with the stakeholders of the resort to analyse their progress. She took pride in being the resort's CEO in South Korea and was determined to fill the shoes her parents had left behind for both her and her little brother. Lee Hyukjae, on the other hand, only attended meetings because he was obligated to. He could care less about being dubbed one of the company's two CEOs, considering that he had little to no interest in the business and had only been given the title because he was the son of its original owners, therefore making him an heir to the throne by default. Besides, he ran his own line of cosmetics and was sure that that alone was enough to sustain him financially. He neither needed nor wanted the added burden of overseeing the family business, to be honest. _Thank goodness for Sora,_ he thought.

     A pair of men dressed in identical grey business suits entered the room, filling two seats at the big, oval table. Hyukjae observed their every move; to be completely honest he was bored out of his wits and wanted the meeting to be over and done with so he could continue wallowing over what had happened the previous night. His mind was in turmoil, to say the very least. On one hand, he was glad that Donghae,  _drunk_ Donghae, could remember that he loved him. He recalled how hearing Donghae's gentle voice proclaim his love  for him gave him a tiny glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, the flame they once shared could be rekindled once again. On the other hand, finding out that sober Donghae had no recollection of what he'd said or done the previous night, hurt. He hated himself for not being able to hide the fact that it hurt him, but he knew better than to blame Donghae for forgetting him. It wasn't his fault. Instead, he should be grateful they found each other after years of being apart, and almost losing all hope. He sighed.

     Just then, the door of the conference room swung open and in walked Sora, clad in her signature grey overcoat, a black dress and tall, black stilettos. Her heels clicked against the floorboards as she strut towards her place at the front end of the table. Hyukjae watched as his sister fumbled with wires, connecting them to her laptop which, in reaction, projected an image onto the screen behind her. She glanced at Hyukjae, smiling, before turning to the rest of the people in the room, taking a seat.

          "Good morning, everyone. Thank you for setting aside time to attend this meeting today," she began calmly, looking each and every executive directly in the eye. "Our agenda for today will be to discuss marketing skills that will help generate a growth in our revenue. With the help of our market data researchers, I was able to gather both qualitative and quantitative data about our customers and..."

 

     Hyukjae's eyes began to lose focus as thoughts of what had happened the previous night began to replay in his mind, drowning out the noise around him. He looked at his wrist longingly, the ghost of Donghae's touch still fresh in his memory.  _Stay,_ Donghae had whispered,  _I've waited so many years to have you._ Hyukjae closed his eyes, letting his mind take control. The memory of how Donghae had snaked his arm across his chest and planted soft kisses along his jawline and cheek sent chills down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing in response. A physical ache began to manifest in his chest.  _Why don't I feel happy?_ He asked himself, frowning.  _I found him. I finally found him. He even told me he loves me. What more do I want?_

     The man tried his best to readjust his focus and pay attention to the meeting, failing each and every time he tried. Not knowing what to do next bothered him so much that he had subconsciously begun to bite his nails, anxious. Images of Donghae lying next to him, touching him, and  _straddling_ him even, kept flashing through his mind, over and over.  _You know what to do_ , Donghae had purred, his voice echoing in his head repetitively.  _You know what to do._

           _You know what to do._

_You know what to do._

_You know what to do._

"...might work best. What do you think, Hyukjae?"

           _You know what to do._

"Hyukjae?"

          Silence.

           _You know what to do._

"Hyukjae."

          "Huh?"

     All eyes were on him. Hyukjae rubbed his face, smiling thinly.

          "I mean, yeah," he replied sheepishly, trying as best as possible to sound composed. "Whatever's best for the company."

     Sora rolled her eyes.

          "Alright," she said, pressing her clicker. "Then let's move on to the next segment of today's meeting."

 

* * *

 

          "Tell me what's wrong." Sora closed the door behind her and turned around, folding her arms. She eyed her brother like a hawk, waiting.

     The meeting had ended ten minutes ago, and everyone had filed out of the room as soon as it had wrapped up; everyone, except the two siblings. Sora began to pace up and down at the front of the room in silence. She watched as Hyukjae shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure of what to say. Hyukjae hung his head, looking defeated.

          "You can't hide anything from me, Hyukjae."

     Sora walked towards her brother slowly, pulling out the chair next to him. She sat down.

          "I know something's bothering you," she said softly. "You're never the type to zone out during business meetings, even if they don't interest you."

     She touched her brother's shoulder reassuringly.

          "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

          "I.. I know," Hyukjae replied, his voice small. "And I know it was unprofessional of me to, uh, not be paying attention. I'm sorry."

     Sora shook her head.

          "Don't apologise. It's nothing big," she reassured. "I'm more concerned about you. What's wrong?"

     Hyukjae swivelled in his chair. He looked at his sister, contemplating whether or not to confide in her. He heaved a deep sigh.

          "Well," he started, relenting. "Do you remember how.. how I once told you that.. I—"

     He pursed his lips.

          "—I fell in love with a boy?"

     Sora sighed in relief. She grabbed her brother's hand, squeezing it gently.

          "Of course I remember!" She exclaimed, beaming. "That was years ago. Y'know, even if you hadn't come clean with me about your sexuality, I'd have found out somehow. I mean, I find out  _everything,_ like the time I found out you—"

          "Noona."

          "—broke Eomma's vase and tried to—"

          "Noona, you're not listening!"

     Sora froze, pressing her lips together tightly.

          "Right," she murmured, embarassed at how she'd gotten carried away. "Sorry. You were saying?"

     Hyukjae slumped into his chair, frowning.

          "He's back."

          "Huh?" Sora contorted her expression in confusion. "Who's back?"

          "The  _boy_. The boy is back."

          "Was he ever gone?"

     Hyukjae grabbed his sister by the shoulders, his eyes growing three sizes.

          "Yes, yes he was! We lost contact when I went to America seven years ago."

     He paused, swallowing.

          "But I found him, noona.  _I found him._ "

     Sora stared at Hyukjae in confusion. She didn't understand anything the man was saying. She waited for Hyukjae to explain.

          "Do you remember the man I was talking to when we visited Jeongbang waterfall the other day?"

     Hyukjae glared expectantly. Sora, on the other hand, tried her best to recall what the man Hyukjae had been speaking to looked like. She vaguely remembered him having brown hair and slightly tanned skin, and above all, he was pretty good-looking, at least to her.

          "Yes, I do." Sora smiled. "Although I don't remember you ever telling me whether he liked you back."

     Picking up the pen on the table, Hyukjae began to spin it in between his fingers.

          "He did," he whispered. "I mean, he  _does,_ but—"

     Sora leanded forward. "But....?"

          "He doesn't remember me."

          "What do you mean he doesn't remember you?"

     Dropping the pen, Hyukjae rested his chin on the palm of his hand, sighing again. He could've sworn that was at least the tenth time he'd sighed that day.

          "It's complicated, noona," he explained. "Basically, one day he stopped writing to me, returning my calls; everything. Turns out he'd gotten into an accident that wiped away most of his memory while I was in America. I only found out because a mutual friend of ours forwarded a news report about the accident to me."

     Hyukjae retrieved a folded piece of paper from his wallet, handing it to Sora.

          "This is the article," he added, watching as Sora unfolded the piece of paper and began reading.

     With each word that she read, Sora's eyes grew wider. She gaped, looking from Hyukjae, to the article, and then back at Hyukjae.

          "I carry it with me no matter where I go," Hyukjae stated, ignoring his sister's expression. "I used to use it to ask people if they knew about the whereabouts of the boy in the article. I guess I don't need it anymore, now that I've found him."

     Leaning back in her chair, Sora folded the paper and placed it on the table. A million questions raced through her mind.

          "How did you find him after all these years, then?"

     Hyukjae smirked.

          "I got lucky, I guess," he chuckled. "When you told me to come to Jejudo to oversee the resort's operations with you, I decided to search for a place to stay at. I didn't wanna stay at my bungalow because it has his face;  _our_ memories; plastered everywhere and honestly, at that point, I had already lost all hope of ever finding him again. Ironically, his profile was one of the first few things that came up on Airbnb when I searched for a place to rent here. Felt like a dream, to be honest."

     Sora scratched her head. She struggled to piece the puzzle together.

          "How did you know he was at the waterfall that day, then?"

     Hyukjae began to fiddle with his phone for a few seconds, before showing it to Sora. On the screen, there was a picture of a rustic-looking living room, followed by information on the owner of said house and the house itself. She recognised the man in the profile picture of the owner of the house; it was definitely the man that she'd seen Hyukjae talking to several days before at the waterfall. She scrolled through the information, pausing at a section titled "Interaction with Guests" and began to read:

 

_I'd be more than happy to bring you around and give you a free and easy tour of Jejudo if you'd like. One of my most favourite places to be at in Jejudo, specifically Seogwipo, is Jeongbang waterfalls. I spend most of my time there. It's a walkable distance from my house and I'd highly recommend it to those of you who love nature or simply want to have a break surrounded by nothing but the sounds and views of nature. However, if you'd prefer little to no interaction/more privacy, I'd be more than happy to abide! Let me know your preferences._

 

          "Oh," Sora mumbled, handing the phone back to Hyukjae.

     Hyukjae slipped the phone into the pocket of his blazer and smiled a faint smile.

          "Yesterday, he professed his love for me." He looked at Sora. "Drunk."

     Sora widened her eyes in surprise.

          "You went drinking?"

     Hyukjae shook his head.

          "Nope. According to him, he'd gone drinking with his best friend. He turned up at the bungalow at nearly three in the morning, drunk. That's when he professed."

     Finally being able to make sense of the overload of information that her younger brother had just regurgitated onto her, Sora nodded slowly, her expression determined.

          "Hyukjae," she started firmly, "you need to make him remember somehow. You need to find out how much of you he remembers, sober or not. No point fretting over it and not doing anything about it."

          "Yeah, but how?" Hyukjae raised his brows, biting his lip.

     Sora grabbed Hyukjae's hand once more, squeezing it.

          "Get him drunk if you have to. Find his best friend. Do whatever it takes."

     A look of hope washed over Hyukjae's face.

          "You know what, noona," he said calmly. "You're right. I need to  _make_ him remember."

          "Exactly, " Sora agreed. "And find out what the man's best friend knows about the whole situation. Seems to me he's the best person to approach. Oh, and wait a minute; this best friend of his; do you know how long he's known the man?"

     Hyukjae nodded.

          "They were best friends long before I knew Donghae. They'd been friends since the age of fourteen."

          "Huh..." Sora thought aloud. "How did Donghae remember him then?"

     Hyukjae frowned.

          "Good question."

     The pair of siblings stared at each other, both silence and a ton of invisible questions filling the spaces in between them.

          "Whatever it is," Hyukjae began, breaking the silence, "I have to do something. Thank you, noona."

     Hyukjae kissed his older sister on the cheek, standing up. He pulled on the lapels of his blazer, adjusting it. Sora, on the other hand, remained seated, smiling to herself.

          "Oh yeah, Hyukjae ah," Sora called out just as Hyukjae was about to exit the room. "I hope you don't mind if I kept the article."

     She picked up the folded piece of paper that she had left on the table.

          "I wanna find out more about this man. Who knows; maybe I could find someone, some sort of professional or something, that could help jolt his memories back to life."

     Hyukjae nodded before disappearing past the door.

 

* * *

 

     That night, Sora stood by the window of her bedroom, holding the piece of paper in one hand and her phone in the other. Her eyes glossed over the words in the article over and over as she waited for her call to be picked up. After several rings, the line clicked and a man's voice greeted her.

          "Hello?" It said.

          "Hey," she uttered, sounding desperate. "We have a problem."


	8. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At exactly half past noon, a scrawny, pale man with bright auburn-coloured hair walked into the diner. That must be him. Kyuhyun watched as the man walked to the middle of the diner, turning around in search of someone. He wore a light blue denim dress shirt, unbuttoned, with a white t-shirt underneath and tight, black jeans ripped at the knees, with white sneakers. Not at all how I thought someone worth that much would dress, to be honest, Kyuhyun thought. He waved at the man, and when he'd been spotted, the man walked over hurriedly. He slid into the booth, beaming, and held out his hand.

      _Keys? Check. Clothes? Check. Toiletries? Got 'em. Film rolls? In the cannister. Front pocket. What else?_ Donghae took a step back, arms akimbo, staring at the open duffel bag on his bed. He had to reach the ferry terminal in approximately one hour and mentally cursed himself for making the last minute decision of returning to Busan for a day. He had a reason though; he wanted to pick up any items that he might have left behind, items that would help narrow down his past. He wanted to remember now more than ever, and the sudden appearance of auburn-haired Lee Hyukjae made it seem all the more urgent for him to do so. Barely a week had passed since the man first appeared in front of him at the waterfall and already he'd learnt so much more about his past than he'd been able to in the past seven or so years. However, Donghae wasn't a fool; he knew he had to take everything Hyukjae told him with a pinch of salt. He barely knew the man, and even though Hyukjae had brought him to  _their_ bungalow and showed him pictures of them from before he lost his memory, he still couldn't fully trust the man. He'd been on his own for too long to readily trust anyone new.

          "I better get going," he muttered to himself, zipping the duffel bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

     Donghae made his way to the garage where he'd last left his bicycle. He hadn't been able to drive ever since the accident, so the grey car that was parked in the garage had been left to collect dust in the years that followed the accident. It was his late parents' gift to him when he first got his license at the age of eighteen, but he barely remembered using it. Of course, it wasn't the only thing he struggled to remember. Donghae grabbed the handlebar of his black fixie. He pressed a button on a small remote control that he'd hung with the keys in his pocket, prompting the garage door to open. He waited as the door tilted up and slid back across the garage ceiling before pushing the fixie out of the garage. Climbing onto the bicycle, Donghae pressed the button on the garage door's remote control once more before riding off towards the ferry terminal.

 

* * *

 

          "Really? You're coming to Busan?" Kyuhyun repeated after his best friend, leaning back in his seat. "That's great! I have a feeling I'll need to talk to you later, anyway."

     He waved at a waiter, prompting him to come over.

          "No, I don't have any plans tonight. Don't worry," he continued to say into the phone that was pressed in between his right ear and shoulder. He listened as his best friend spoke on the line, pointing to the name of a beverage on the menu simultaneously so the waiter could take his order.

          "Okay, great. I'll talk to you later. Yep. Bye."

     Kyuhyun placed his phone on the table and straightened his back. He had arrived at the diner fifteen minutes ahead of the time that he'd been told to be there, and had chosen to sit at a booth near the back of the diner. He sighed. The only two reasons he'd agreed to the meeting was because first and foremost, it was a Saturday and secondly, he had nothing planned since Irene had left for Germany with her parents the previous night. He looked at his watch. 12:27 PM. He waited.

     At exactly half past noon, a scrawny, pale man with bright auburn-coloured hair walked into the diner.  _That must be him._  Kyuhyun watched as the man walked to the middle of the diner, turning around in search of someone. He wore a light blue denim dress shirt, unbuttoned, with a white t-shirt underneath and tight, black jeans ripped at the knees, with white sneakers.  _Not at all how I thought someone worth that much would dress, to be honest,_ Kyuhyun thought. He waved at the man, and when he'd been spotted, the man walked over hurriedly. He slid into the booth, beaming, and held out his hand.

          "Hi," he greeted. "Lee Hyukjae."

     Kyuhyun reached out and shook the man's hand in return.

          "Cho Kyuhyun," he said firmly.

     He watched as Hyukjae began to flip through the menu, wondering what to say next.

          "So, uh, Hyukjae-sshi," Kyuhyun started cautiously, "Remind me again how you found my number and why we're sitting here together right now."

     Hyukjae continued to look through the menu, unbothered. It flustered Kyuhyun for some reason.

          "Please don't call me Hyukjae-sshi," Hyukjae said gently, smiling. "Just Hyukjae. I got your number through Donghae—no— _I_ searched his phone for your number. I needed to talk to you about something that happened between the two of us."

     Just then, a waitress stopped by their table, balancing a tray full of drinks on one palm. She served Kyuhyun a cup of tea on a saucer before moving off to serve another patron. Kyuhyun took a sip of his tea, frowning.

          "Okay," he muttered, setting his cup onto its saucer. "but why? And why me?"

     Hyukjae closed the menu, pushing it aside.

          "Because after what happened," he explained. "I figured you might have the answers I've been looking for. You're the only person Donghae has kept close to ever since he lost his memory. Plus, he told me you're the last person he was with before he turned up at my house. Drunk."

          "Drunk?"

          "Mmhm. I believe you went drinking with him a day after his birthday and dropped him off at my place right after."

     Kyuhyun was silent.

          "I'm gonna order some food, by the way." Hyukjae stated, gesturing at a waiter to come over. "Want anything?"

     Kyuhyun shook his head. Hyukjae mouthed an  _okay_ in response and proceeded to relay his order to the waiter. After the waiter had taken his order and left, Hyukjae reached out and placed his hand on Kyuhyun's, causing Kyuhyun to scramble frantically. Hyukjae smirked.

          "Sorry," he apologised half-heartedly. "You look shaken."

          "Uh, no," was Kyuhyun's quick reply.

     He adjusted his glasses, staring straight past the auburn-haired man. For some unknown reason, he didn't know how to continue the conversation. Perhaps he was intimidated by the man's demeanour, and by the fact that he had no idea how much or how little the man knew about his best friend, and about him. He sipped some tea.

          "Aren't you going to ask me what happened?"

     Kyuhyun looked up from his cup. Hyukjae was staring intently at him with his head tilted.

          "Uh, yes," Kyuhyun said softly, placing his cup onto the saucer carefully. "Eventually. Although I do want to clarify something; I never dropped him off at your place that night. After drinking, he'd insisted on taking a cab home himself. I let him. I even gave the cab driver his address before saying goodbye to him, so I had no idea he went off to find you."

     Hyukjae raised his brows, surprised.

          "Oh? But that would mean he had either given my address to the driver after the cab had moved off, or walked all the way to my place after being dropped off at his house."

          "Exactly," Kyuhyun agreed. "But anyway, what happened?"

     Kyuhyun watched as the man in front of him leaned back, blank faced.

          "He said he loved me. He said he always had." Hyukjae's face remained blank and emotionless, but the tip of his ears began to turn pink. "We even got _intimate._ "

          "What?" Kyuhyun choked. "Not possible! He doesn't even remember you! Did you take advantage of him? Because if you did—"

          "Kyuhyun, calm down."

          "—I swear I will kill—"

          "CALM DOWN, WILL YOU?!"

     There was a brief silence throughout the diner. Patrons had turned, wondering who had raised their voice. Kyuhyun and Hyukjae, on the other hand, glared at each other. There was tension in between them, but it dissipated as quickly as it had formed. Hyukjae softened his gaze.

          "I'm sorry," he apologised, his shoulders sinking, "I didn't mean to shout."

     Kyuhyun waved his hands frantically, shaking his head. 

          "No, no, please don't apologise!" He begged. "If anything, I should be the one apologising. I overreacted. And besides, I'm sure you're just as confused as I am."

     This time, Kyuhyun reached his hand out, touching Hyukjae's wrist gently. He felt sorry for the man.

          "Tell me everything that happened."

     Hyukjae straightened his back.

          "Well," he began, his voice as quiet as a mouse. "He was banging on my door at nearly three in the morning, and when I opened it, he fell straight into my arms. He was dead drunk, mumbling to himself and all that. I thought maybe letting him sleep over for the night would be a good idea but.. Then he started telling me that he'd always loved me, and that he'd waited so many years for me. He even told me to stay in bed with him, so I did, because I thought he'd fall asleep. He didn't though."

     Kyuhyun leaned forward, curious.

          "What did he do?"

          "He  _teased_ me, and then out of nowhere he—he climbed on top of me, and he—"

          " _Oooooooooookay_ there, mister!" Kyuhyun interjected, covering his ears. "I think I get it!"

     Hyukjae's cheeks flushed. He looked away sheepishly.

          "Sorry. But anyway, yeah, I didn't even move. I didn't take advantage of him or anything, but I didn't stop him either," he admitted, avoiding Kyuhyun's gaze. "I didn't want to. Not after how long I'd been searching for him, really."

     Kyuhyun rubbed his chin. He was unsure of what to make of it all, to be honest.

          "So what you're saying is that  _drunk_ Donghae remembers something sober him doesn't?"

     Hyukjae nodded.

          "I was wondering if this is the first time something like this has happened," he elaborated. "I mean, I'm sure it's not the first time the two of you have gone drinking since the accident, right?"

     A waitress interrupted their conversation right then, setting a plate of pasta in front of Hyukjae. Then she proceeded to pour iced water from a pitcher, into an empty glass that she had placed next to the plate. Hyukjae nodded at the waitress in gratitude, and she moved off. Hyukjae turned to face Kyuhyun.

          "It definitely isn't the first time something like this happened," Kyuhyun concluded, tapping his index finger on the table. "Donghae used to complain of flashbacks that he'd get in his sleep, but those were mostly flashbacks of the accident. He never mentioned you. Maybe he remembers you subconsciously now that you've appeared in front of him. I don't know. I try my best not to pressure him into recalling anything. The man can't even remember his family."

          "Then how did he remember you?"

          "I'm sorry?"

          "I mean, how did he remember you, considering that he lost most, if not all, of his memory?" Hyukjae reiterated, twirling a fork into his pasta.

     Kyuhyun was visibly taken aback by the sudden question, his eyes widened in shock as if he found it absurd to even have been asked such a thing. He remained calm, however, reminding himself that the man in front of him knew little of his friendship with Hyukjae, the same way he knew little to none about the man's supposed relationship with Donghae. He smiled.

          "Donghae and I have been friends ever since I moved in next door to him when we were both thirteen. Our parents were extremely close, so when Donghae lost his parents, my family took him in." Kyuhyun took a sip from his cup before continuing. "He didn't immediately remember us, though. He was traumatised, and he literally flinched if anyone tried to touch him. It was really upsetting, but every single day since the day he got discharged, my family and I tried to comfort him with pictures, y'know, to see if he could remember anything. I guess he trusted us, even if he didn't exactly remember who we are. To be honest, I'm not even sure now if he remembers that I've been his best friend since we became neighbours, or if he just decided to roll with it because he couldn't remember anything."

     Hyukjae swallowed his food. He thought aloud.

          "Doesn't he have relatives or something? Didn't any of his extended family step up when news of the accident was covered? How come the police didn't contact his extended family or something? How come they let _your_ parents have custody of him?"

     Kyuhyun shrugged.

          "H-honestly," he stammered, his voice quavering with uncertainty. "I don't know. My parents handled most of the situation, and since I was busy with school at the time, I never really got around to asking them."

     Stuffing his face with pasta, Hyukjae studied the ceiling.

          "What are you thinking about?" Kyuhyun asked him, interlacing his fingers.

     Hyukjae swallowed, putting his fork down.

          "I want to see if Donghae can remember anything else," he said, lowering his voice, "and since he seems to only be able to remember things  _drunk,_ then I'll need him to get him drunk. I'll need your help."

 

* * *

 

     The door cracked open. Donghae took off his shoes and arranged them neatly next to the door, before setting his duffel bag onto the couch. The house was the same. Not a single thing had shifted position since he'd left the house nearly eight months before. He drew the curtains and opened the windows in a desperate attempt to rid the house of its still, musty air. He felt both indifferent and pained by the fact that there he was, standing in the house that he had, according to Kyuhyun, grown up in, but felt no connection to. He stood by the open window for a while and sighed.

     Just then, his phone began to ring in his pocket, interrupting the silence that filled the house. Donghae swiftly pulled it out and pressed a button before putting it against his ear.

          "Hey," he greeted calmly, suppressing the sadness in his voice.

     Hearing the voice on the other end comforted him.

          "Tonight? Yeah, sure. I think I'll be done by then. Text me the time and place, okay?"

     Donghae laughed briefly at something that was said on the other end of the line.

          "Okay, okay, I promise. Alright. Bye."

     Silence filled the house once more.


	9. One Too Many

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Instead of discovering a tin full of savoury, or more likely, stale butter cookies like the picture on the lid had promised his starving being, he had, instead, opened some sort of literal Pandora's box to the past. He rubbed his thumb along the slightly rusted rim of the opened tin, staring at the items nestled within its frame. There was a silver locket necklace; its pendant was made of some sort of metal that had been carved into a pair of wings that overlapped each other, forming a heart, a small photo album only slightly larger than the size of a namecard, some loose beads and paperclips, and a frayed letter. He set the tin onto his lap, first picking out the locket. His fingers traced the grooves in the carvings of the pendant carefully.

     Donghae uncapped the carton of milk he'd found in the fridge and sniffed it.

          "Oh god,  _gross._ "

     He scrunched his nose and tossed the carton into the bin and continued searching the kitchen for something,  _anything_ , consumable. It had only just occured to him that in his mad spontaneous rush of booking a ferry ticket and packing for Busan almost immediately after waking up that day, he had completely skipped breakfast. It was nearly half past three in the afternoon, and he was famished. He'd even contemplated dropping by Kyuhyun's next door to eat but decided against it upon knowing that the man wasn't home. He raided the last of the kitchen's cabinets, chancing upon a tin of Danish butter cookies hidden in the back of one of the shelves. Grabbing his newfound treasure, he pushed the cabinet door close and walked into the living room, slumping into the sofa.

     Donghae propped his legs onto the coffee table, shifting in his place before taking off the lid off the tin of cookies. He gasped.

          "What the—"

     Instead of discovering a tin full of savoury, or more likely, stale butter cookies like the picture on the lid had promised his starving being, he had, instead, opened some sort of literal Pandora's box to the past. He rubbed his thumb along the slightly rusted rim of the opened tin, staring at the items nestled within its frame. There was a silver locket necklace; its pendant was made of some sort of metal that had been carved into a pair of wings that overlapped each other, forming a heart, a small photo album only slightly larger than the size of a namecard, some loose beads and paperclips, and a frayed letter. He set the tin onto his lap, first picking out the locket. His fingers traced the grooves in the carvings of the pendant carefully. Donghae then split the locket apart, unveiling a tiny photograph on each side of the open locket. Both photographs were sepia-coloured; on the left was a picture of a man slightly older than Donghae, whose features were identical to his, and on the right, a lady of around the same age with dark, wavy hair, smiling. He brought the locket closer to his face, inspecting the photographs at close range. Nothing. Neither of the photographs rang a bell to him.  _You fucking useless piece of shit,_ he scolded himself mentally, prompting a pang of guilt to spread throughout his insides. _R_ _emember something, god damn it!_ For some odd reason unbeknownst to him, he felt like he should've recognised the strangers in the photographs. Instinct instigated him to put on the necklace, and so he did. He was determined to form a connection with whoever those people were, so he figured he'd leave the necklace on until he could ask Kyuhyun about them later. Maybe Kyuhyun knew something he didn't.

     Next, Donghae picked up the photo album, cracking it open to its first page.

          "Huh," he huffed, feigning surprise.

     There on the first page of the miniature album, was a photograph of the same couple that was featured in the locket. In it, the couple huddled close together, and in between them was a baby boy, swaddled in some sort of blanket. Donghae stared at the photograph, unfeeling. Hypothetically, he had figured out who the couple probably was, and he was  _sure_ he knew who the baby was. He continued browsing through the album. More photographs of the same couple followed, with occasional appearances by the baby, who grew bigger with every page he flipped. He knew it was him. He just knew.

     About two-thirds of the way through, Donghae closed the album abruptly, a strange thought crossing his mind. He laid the album back in the tin and covered it, before placing the tin in the duffel bag that he had lugged to Busan with him. He stood up and crossed his arms, staring intently at the door of one of the rooms diagonally to his left while biting his lip. The pace of his heartbeat picked up.

     All those years ago, after he had gotten discharged from the hospital and Kyuhyun's family took him in, Donghae had only returned to the house several times to retrieve items that were supposedly his from his bedroom, accompanied by Kyuhyun. There was one room in the house, however, that he had never, not once, stepped into since returning home from the hospital. His parents' bedroom door had always been shut, at least in his memory, and he had always made the conscious effort to avoid it. He never felt prepared to face whatever was behind that door, especially since he had been and still was recovering from the post-accident trauma. Even if he had wanted to, Kyuhyun wouldn't have let him.

          "Fuck it." He cussed, walking towards the room.  _Kyu can't stop me now._

     Standing in front of the bedroom door, Donghae put his hand on the doorknob. He hesitated; his thoughts beginning to race.  _What if? What if? What if I regret? What if I can't take it? What if I find out too much? What if I wish I hadn't gone into the room at all? What if the past is something I don't want to remember? But what if it is? I won't know unless I do it, right? But fuck, what if I regret? What if I—_

     Donghae wrapped his hand around the knob tightly, took a deep breath and turned— _click!_ —but the door wouldn't budge. It was sealed shut and locked from the inside. He tried again, only to be greeted by another audible click of resistance from the door's built-in mechanism. He stepped backwards, heaving a loud sigh.  _Maybe it just isn't meant to be,_ whined his conscience. He ran his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes. _C'mon, Lee Donghae. Think of something._

     Then he had an idea. He quickly fetched two paperclips from the cookie tin he'd found earlier and bent them out of shape with his teeth. He inserted one of the paperclips into the keyhole with his left hand and applied slight pressure, before pushing the other paperclip into the top of the lock's keyhole with his right. He began to scrub the plug inside the door's built-in mechanism with his makeshift pick. Donghae pressed his ear against the door, listening for any sounds that would point him in the right direction. After several scrubs of the pick, he heard a click. He turned the knob.  _Bingo._ The door creaked open.

          "My dumb Youtube video binge-watching spree didn't go to waste after all, huh, Kyu?" he said aloud, greeted only by a deafening silence in return.

     A familiar scent escaped the room, raising the hairs on the back of Donghae's neck. He squeezed past the door and froze like a deer in headlights barely three steps into the bedroom. For some reason, he felt like he was trespassing. It didn't feel like the room had once belonged to anyone related to him at all. Instead, it felt like he had callously intruded a stranger's private space, and that thought alone flushed his cheeks pink. Blanketed in an odd mix of awkwardness and bewilderment, he looked around, moving only his eyes. The walls of the room were covered in a dull floral wallpaper, unlike the rest of the house, which had been painted white. A mahogany brown cuckoo clock had been mounted in the centre of the wall that faced a queen-sized bed. The bed itself was made; its pure white pillows, bedsheet and duvet had been arranged neatly and left untouched. It suddenly occured to Donghae that the bed had probably been in that same state since the family last left the house together seven years ago.  _What a thought._  He approached the wardrobe at the far end of the room and opened its doors, raiding it with a hunger for clues to his forgotten past. There was nothing interesting in it, apart from a myriad of clothing hanging from a railing, and a few piles of clothes folded neatly at the bottom of the wardrobe. He closed the wardrobe and advanced towards the dresser next to the bed instead, puling its drawers open one by one. An insane amount of semi-used cosmetics filled the first drawer, followed by a second drawer filled with an assortment of jewellery. It looked to him that everything had been thrown into the drawer with no regards whatsoever to whether attempting to organise a bit more would've made finding one's items a tad bit easier.  _Eomma must've been one hell of a vain, disorganised mess. It's no wonder I'm just like that._

He knelt down and opened the third and last drawer. Contrary to the first two drawers, the contents of this one were a bit different; there were three compartments consisting of various items. In the first compartment was a stack of opened letters. Donghae lifted the stack and swiftly flipped through them.  _Probably just bills or something,_ he concluded, judging by the formality in the way the addresses had been printed onto each envelope. He returned the stack of letters to its original position, shifting his attention to the next compartment.

"What do we have here," he muttered under his breath, picking up a small tiger cub doll that fit snugly in his hands.

He rose slowly, glossing his eyes over the doll as he turned it over. He dusted its fur with his fingers, smiling.  _Cute._ Donghae began rubbing the doll against his cheek fondly, breathing in its scent. Something about it felt so familiar and comforting to him, but he couldn't put his finger on it, and then—

 _Sweetheart—_ Donghae's head began to— _you're too old for soft toys—_ throb in excruciating pain as he— _I'll keep this for you, okay?—_ dropped the doll and threw his head into his hands, swaying unsteadily.

"Stop! Stop! _P_ _lease STOP!_ " He yelled, hitting his head repeatedly in a desperate attempt to overcome the throbbing ache.

In his subconscience, he saw the silhouettes of a woman and a man towering over him. He could barely make out the woman's smile, but he knew who it was. She reached her hand out, still smiling, and he saw his own hand reaching for hers. Just as their fingers were about to make contact, the illusion evanesced, and Donghae returned to reality, falling onto the bed. He scrambled about, picking up the doll; the only tangible part of his past that he had at the moment, apart from the locket around his neck; clutching it to his chest. Curling into a fetul position, he started to cry. What began as a soft murmured cry grew gradually louder, and in minutes Donghae was sobbing hysterically into the little tiger cub he'd found in the drawer earlier. He cried for what felt like hours, both perplexed and frightened at how his body reacted physiologically to encountering pieces of his past.

"I d-don't—" he sobbed aloud, "k-know what's happen-n-ning to me!"

He didn't know if he regretted entering the forbidden bedroom that belonged to his late parents, or if he would've preferred to not know anything from his past at all, rather than to hurt like he did now.  _It hurts. It hurts._ He repeated to himself in his mind as if to validate the physical and emotional pain that he felt.  _Everything hurts._ And so he laid there, crying loudly making no attempt to move, hoping someone would find him and embrace him, or that no one would ever find him at all.


	10. Three's A Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kyuhyun reached his hand out in a bid to turn the doorknob, but in a split second, retracted his hand. Apparently, the door was already open. He shot a look at Hyukjae, raising a finger to his lips, before quietly squeezing through the crack.

     The front door creaked open. Kyuhyun entered the house, kicking off his shoes, and Hyukjae followed suit, trailing close behind him. They both noticed the worn pair of brown loafers placed neatly by the door, signifying only one thing; he was here. They dropped their things onto the couch and wandered around the house, calling out his name.

          "Lee Donghae! I know you're here, you sick son of a bitch!" Kyuhyun yelled, managing as cheerful a voice as he could muster, popping his head into the kitchen. "I called you 36 times and you had the cheek not to answer even once."

     No one. He returned to the living room. Hyukjae, who had disappeared into one of the bedrooms, also reemerged having found no one. The two of them exchanged looks before approaching the last known room in the house; the forbidden bedroom; the room that Kyuhyun always made sure Donghae would avoid. Kyuhyun reached his hand out in a bid to turn the doorknob, but in a split second, retracted his hand. Apparently, the door was already open. He shot a look at Hyukjae, raising a finger to his lips, before quietly squeezing through the crack. Hyukjae waited outside, anxious.

          "Donghae?"

     Silence ensued, and then out of nowhere, a loud wail thundered through the house.

          "Oh my god, Lee Donghae!"

     Kyuhyun cried out in shock and rushed forward, kneeling in front of the brunet. He pulled Donghae, who was huddled on the floor in the corner of the room, into his arms, embracing him tightly. The man was convulsing. Kyuhyun stroked his hair, hushing and rocking him back and forth. Hyukjae, who had been listening from outside, burst into the room upon hearing Kyuhyun's cry. He joined the pair on the floor, scrambling about frantically.

          "Kyuhyun, w-what's happening? What's wrong with Donghae?!" He asked, hardly able to hide the distress on his face.

     Rocking back and forth, Kyuhyun pulled Donghae closer.

          "It's okay, Donghae, it's okay. I'm here. You're safe. _You're safe._ "

     Donghae's body gradually stopped spasming, but tears continued to trickle down his cheeks. His eyes darted about for several seconds, before refocusing. He stared straight at Kyuhyun, catching his breath. Kyuhyun smiled reassuringly in response. He released his grip on Donghae's shoulders and scooted, giving the man enough space to shift about, eventually propping himself up. Donghae blinked twice, shaking his head before blinking some more.

          "Hey bud," Kyuhyun grinned. "Missed me?"

          "I...what..." Donghae squeezed his eyes shut, massaging his temples. "I need to...to lie down..."

     Kyuhyun and Hyukjae helped Donghae up onto his feet, prompting him to stagger towards the bed. He sat down at the edge of the bed, still massaging his temples. Kyuhyun stepped back, placing a hand on Hyukjae's shoulder.

          "I...no,  _we'll_ go make you something to drink." Kyuhyun tugged on Hyukjae's shoulder.

     Catching on quickly, Hyukjae stood up and followed Kyuhyun out of the room. They hurried through the hallway, seeking refuge in the kitchen. Kyuhyun raided the cabinets for whatever he needed to make a drink for his best friend, while Hyukjae leaned against the wall, arms folded.

          "So..." Hyukjae muttered out of the blue. "What happened back there?"

     Back facing the auburn-haired man, Kyuhyun retrieved a cup and teaspoon from a drawer. He turned on the kitchen tap, rinsing them.

          "It happens a lot," he explained almost nonchalantly, drying the cup and teaspoon with a dish rag. "I've gotten used to it by now. Donghae has these random moments where he'd go into some sort of fit. Sometimes he calms down and ends up being able to remember a chunk from his past, and other times, that's all it is; a fit. There isn't much you can do but to wait it out with him."

     Hyukjae rubbed his thumb across his lower lip, deep in thought.

          "It's some sort of side effect of the traumatic brain injury he suffered from because of the accident," Kyuhyun continued, placing a kettle on the stove.

     He turned on the stove and took several steps back, folding his arms as if to mimic Hyukjae's stance, a derisive grin plastered across his face.

          "Don't worry too much," he reassured. "The doctor said it's part of the recovery process."

     Hyukjae faked a smile. He wasn't sure he could be patient enough to wait for the recovery process to complete itself, to be honest. And afterall, the two of them had come up with some sort of plan to elicit answers,  _drunk_ answers, from Donghae during their lunch date earlier that day.

          "Are you perhaps gonna ask him if he remembers anything then?"

     Kyuhyun straightened his back.

          "Actually," he uttered, adjusting his glasses. "I thought maybe it'd be a good idea for  _you_  to ask him."

     Hyukjae pointed at himself in disbelief.

          "Me?"

          "Yes, you dumbass.  _You._ " Kyuhyun reiterated through gritted teeth, rolling his eyes.

     The kettle whistled. The bespectacled man swiftly turned off the stove and picked up the kettle, pouring boiled water into the cup that he had rinsed earlier. Reaching for a tea sachet from inside one of the kitchen cabinets, he rolled his eyes once more.

          "What are you waiting for, you idiot?" Kyuhyun dropped the sachet into the mug of hot water and turned to glare at the awkward redhead.

     Hyukjae panicked, darting his eyes. He scrambled about for something, anything, to look like he knew what he was doing.

          "Uh. Right, I'll...I'm gonna..." He pointed towards the bedroom with one hand, rubbing the back of his head with the other.

     Kyuhyun nodded in acknowledgment, lips pressed together tightly. He watched as Hyukjae exited the kitchen awkwardly, glancing back every few seconds as if to double check for reassurance that he was doing the right thing. Shaking his head, Kyuhyun stirred the cup of tea that he had prepared for Donghae.

          "Ah, Lee Donghae," he lamented to himself. "You fell in love with a complete dumbass. What a match made in heaven."

 

* * *

 

     Hyukjae took off his dress shirt, leaving only his white t-shirt on, before tying the dress shirt around his waist. He paced up and down the hallway, biting his lip anxiously.  _What the heck do I ask him? How's your head? Can you tell me the nickname you gave me when we were nineteen? Do you remember how we used to make out in the park?_ He snapped out of his inner dialogue, ruffling his hair in frustration. He was terribly awkward when it came to making spontaneous conversations. Ironically, that very trait was what Donghae had found particularly endearing about him. It wasn't of any help now, though. Hyukjae continued to pace up and down the corridor, thinking about how to start a conversation with the man.  _Would it be too much if I went straight into asking if he remembers anything?_ He scratched his head, paced once more before stopping abruptly in front of the bedroom door.  _I know._ He grinned to himself.  _I'll tell him about lunch with Kyuhyun._

     The gap in the doorway widened. Hyukjae squeezed through it, smiling sheepishly at Donghae, who was now sitting upright against the bedpost with his legs outstretched in front of him. He sat down on the bed, next to the man's feet, looking around the room awkwardly.

          "Hey, Hyukjae." Donghae called out, poking his foot into the man's hip.

     Wincing, Hyukjae turned. His cheeks burned a bright pink, and for some reason, he couldn't make eye contact. Donghae laughed.

          "Come here," he gestured, patting the empty space next to him on the bed.

     Without hesitating for even a second, Hyukjae crawled over to Donghae's side, kneeling with his legs folded beneath his thighs. He stared at Donghae, wide-eyed and unblinking. Donghae lolled his head sideways, resembling a curious puppy.

          "Why are you sitting like that?" he pointed out, wagging his finger at Hyukjae. "This isn't a Japanese tea ceremony, y'know."

     Hyukjae's blank expression gradually broke into a smile.

          "Ah, you're back." He teased gently. "The sassy Donghae that judged me for my outfit the day we met at the waterfall for the first time is  _back."_

     Donghae returned the smile, bowing his head. After all those years, even if he wasn't able to remember anything, he still felt shy in front of the man. The tip of his ears reddened.

          "How are you feeling?" Hyukjae tilted his head, a look of concern replacing his smile.

     He waited patiently and watched as Donghae looked for the right words to say, his eyes darting frantically. Then, he reached into his shirt, pulling out a necklace of sorts, holding it up against the light. There was a pendant at the end of the necklace; a heartshaped locket, glistening. He opened the locket and showed it to Hyukjae.

     Hyukjae leaned forward, taking a closer look at the photos nestled in the locket. He moved his gaze from the locket to Donghae's face.

          "Are those your..." Hyukjae paused, the brief silence finishing his sentence for him.

     Donghae looked away uncomfortably. "I guess."

          "Where did you find it?"

          "Don't know. Some box."

          "Wanna talk about it?"

          "Don't know."

     Hyukjae pursed his lips. Donghae's short answers were enough of a hint to tell him to drop the subject, even if he was dying to find out what had happened before he had arrived at the house with Kyuhyun, and whether it had anything to do with the locket. Sensing his malaise, Hyukjae reached out for the doll perched on Donghae's lap and turned it around, taking in its details. He changed the subject.

          "Hey, what's this?" He asked, waving the tiger cub doll in front of Donghae's face. "Sweetheart, you're too old for soft toys."

          "No I'm not, eomma."

     Donghae's eyes widened.  _Sweetheart, you're too old for soft toys,_  a voice in his head echoed. Flashing images of the silhouette of a man and woman appeared in his mind again, this time with faces; the faces of the couple in the locket. Donghae threw his head into his hands, groaning and grimacing. He began to convulse again, drawing his knees to his chest.

          "St-stop please," he begged, rocking back and forth with tears streaming down his face. "S-s-stop!"

     Hyukjae immediately dropped the doll and crawled towards Donghae, hugging him the same way Kyuhyun had earlier. He hushed Donghae, tightening his embrace. Donghae's body jerked erratically for several minutes, threatening to break free from Hyukjae's hold, but Hyukjae persisted, hugging tightly and kissing the top of Donghae's head repeatedly. 

          "I'm here, Hae. I'm here," Hyukjae repeated again and again, hoping the mellow tone of his voice would be able to calm the brunet down. "I'm here. I've always been here. I'll always, _always_ be here, okay? I'll never let anything happen to you, Hae. I promise."

          "I—" Donghae wailed. "I j-just want—"

          "Shhh..." Hyukjae stroked the man's hair. "I know, Hae. I know."

     Donghae's body jerked several more times, each jolt weaker than the one before it, before going limp entirely. He melted into Hyukjae's arms, feeble and breathing heavily. Hyukjae lifted Donghae's chin, wiping the trail the man's tears left behind with his other hand. He closed in, kissing Donghae's forehead gently. When he realised that Donghae neither moved nor resisted, he pulled away, looking at Donghae with an expression that showed both relief and scepticism.

          "I'm sorry," he apologised, worried that the kiss on the forehead was too much.

     He picked up the doll and placed it back on Donghae's lap. Donghae watched him, his face untelling. They sat in silence. Just then, Kyuhyun knocked on the door, letting himself in before either of them had the chance to give him the permission to.

          "Young master," he quipped, "your tea is ready. In fact, it's cold now."

     Kyuhyun carefully handed the cup of tea that he had made to Donghae, eyeing him suspiciously as he did.

          "Wait, have you been crying?!" Kyuhyun questioned, staring at his best friend before glaring at Hyukjae. "Did you make him cry?!"

     Hyukjae's hands shot up in front of him as if to defend himself against a ball that had been thrown at him.

          "No! I swear I di—"

          "He didn't make me cry, Kyu." Donghae answered firmly. "I had another fit."

     Shifting about in his place on the bed, Kyuhyun sneered.

          "That had better be the case," he warned, scowling at Hyukjae before turning to Donghae, softening his appearance. "How are you holdin' up, bud?"

     Donghae set his cup down on the bedside table next to him and once again pulled the necklace out from inside his shirt, this time removing it altogether. He handed the necklace to Kyuhyun, bemused. Kyuhyun dangled the necklace from his wrist, an unreadable look painted across his face as he raised it high enough for the locket to be directly in his line of view.

          "Open it." Donghae nodded towards the locket.

     Kyuhyun took to his instruction immediately, gasping upon seeing the photographs in the locket.

          "Ah. No wonder you cried." He remarked, nodding his head. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

     Hyukjae looked from Kyuhyun to Donghae, then back at Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun's face was solemn. Donghae, on the other hand, looked hesitant and insecure. He opened his mouth, making a noise that hinted at his uncertainty. Then he nodded reluctantly.

          "Okay. Let's talk about it then," Kyuhyun said encouragingly.

     Listening in on the conversation like a spectator watching a soap opera off a television screen, Hyukjae furrowed his brows. He knew it was stupid of him to be feeling jealous; the man was Donghae's best friend afterall; but he couldn't help it. He noticed how Donghae had readily agreed to opening up about the locket when Kyuhyun asked him about it, whereas when Hyukjae had asked, Donghae had only had a short "don't know" to offer in return. He cussed himself mentally and shook his head subtly as if to ward off the unwanted sense of jealousy.  _You have to regain his trust, you dumbfuck,_ he told himself off subconsciously.  _He can't remember you._ He continued to listen on to the best friends' conversation.

          "I...well I kinda figured out that they're my parents," Donghae admitted, holding his palm out so Kyuhyun could return the necklace. "And I kept having painful flashbacks when I found this..."

     Donghae picked up the tiger cub. "...this doll." He scratched his head.

          "What I wanna know is," he put on the necklace, pursing his lips, "why didn't you let me come into this room any sooner?"

     Hyukjae looked at Kyuhyun for a reaction. The man adjusted his glasses, slack-jawed.

          "Honestly," he began to explain himself. "it's because appa and eomma told me not to let you into the room. They locked it. They didn't even allow  _me_ to come into the room to retrieve anything for you. I'm not sure why, though."

     Donghae fidgeted, staring at his outstretched legs.

          "I've been having so many flashbacks lately." He touched the locket at the end of his necklace, rubbing it with his finger. "I don't know how to describe it. It's like I'm slowly remembering more and more. It's been seven, nearly eight years since the accident and I lived pretty much in the dark for most of the years, and then—"

     Donghae looked up and nodded towards Hyukjae, prompting Kyuhyun to look at him too. Hyukjae froze.

          "—and then  _you_ appear out of nowhere and I start having these weird fits again, except they're a lot more vivid."

          Kyuhyun rubbed his face, frowning. "Do you remember anything about him, though? He claims he's a _huge_ deal to you."

     The hint of sarcasm in the man's tone of voice cued Hyukjae's eyes to roll as far back as they could, annoyed. And yet, Hyukjae waited for an answer anxiously. Donghae shook his head.

          "No. I don't remember anything about him at all."

     Hyukjae stifled a gasp, concealing the painful ache that pooled in his system. Kyuhyun smirked.

          "Guess you were wrong, huh, Hyukjae." He jibed, reaching for the empty cup on the bedside table.

     Donghae tilted his head.

          "Wait," he uttered. "Neither of you told me how come you're both here,  _together._ "

     Kyuhyun and Hyukjae exchanged looks.

          "Uh, we—"

          "We bumped into each other at some diner. Hyukjae recognised me so he came up to me and we hung out," Kyuhyun explained, flustered.

     They stared at Donghae, wondering if he'd buy into the story.

          "Okay," Donghae said, studying the ceiling, "but what are you doing in Busan, Hyukjae? Don't you have things to do at the resort? Wait—are you stalking me?!"

          "No way!" Hyukjae and Kyuhyun shout in unison.

     The pair rubbed their heads sheepishly. Hyukjae attempted to explain.

          "I met a client at a nearby cafe for a discussion. His business is based in Busan. I got hungry right after so I dropped by the diner, where I met Kyuhyun," Hyukjae lied. "Found him familiar as hell and then I realised that he's  _your_ best friend."

     Donghae looked to and fro between the two of them, rubbing his chin.

          "That's nice," he remarked simply.

     The trio smiled at one another; Donghae, sincerely and the other two, in relief. Kyuhyun cleared his throat.

          "All this talk of diners and lunch is making me thirsty," he said, deadpan. "I'm gonna go get you some more tea. Maybe I'll even get myself some. Hey Hyukjae, want some tea?"

          Hyukjae shook his head. "No thanks."

     Annoyed that his hint had completely flown past the auburn-haired man head, Kyuhyun tutted.

          "Well I'm gonna  _need_ you to help me get something off the shelf to make some more tea so you  _have_  to come help me, birdbrain," he crosstalked.

          "Wha—oh, oh shit okay," Hyukjae replied sheepishly, climbing off the bed. "Stay here and rest, Donghae."

     The two of them disappeared out the bedroom, leaving Donghae there, awkward and confused at the exchange that had happened right in front of him. He scratched his head, brows raised.

          "Funny," he mumbled to himself. "Why would Kyuhyun need Hyukjae's help getting something off a shelf? He's taller than Hyukjae."

     The brunet cuddled the doll that he'd placed on his lap earlier, brushing the thought off.


	11. Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "He doesn't have anyone else. He's my best friend, and I love him like a brother. I seriously do. For the last decade my parents and I have been the only ones keeping an eye on the man and treating him like family. No one else reached out to us, or searched for him. I may not know who you were to him back then, but you're obviously an important part of his past, and hopefully present and future, even if he struggles to remember you."

     Bent over the kitchen sink, Hyukjae cupped his hands together, collecting and splashing water onto his face repetitively in a weak attempt to freshen up. With his eyes closed, he tried his best to make sense of the scenarios that had just played out in front of him, flashing images of Donghae's panicked being appeared in his mind like a broken projector, over and over, making little to no sense. After several splashes, he paused, breathing in and out deeply, holding onto the stone edges of the sink for leverage. He didn't like how everything had unfolded, but as much as he wanted out, he'd already gotten in way too deep to bail. He exhaled, shaking his head as if to show how sorry he was for his own plight. Maybe it was absurd of him to have believed there was no way Donghae would forget someone like him after all those years. Not that it was Donghae's fault, of course; it's not like Donghae had asked to be involved in an accident that took away his parents and his memory. He couldn't help but to hate it, though. It was overwhelming, even for him, even though he wasn't the one who struggled with memory loss. Hyukjae could only imagine how difficult it was for Donghae. He hung his head, sighing.

          "Donghae would hate to see you like this," said a voice quietly from behind him. Hyukjae turned around to face the tall raven-haired man, who had by then stood leaning against the fridge with his arms folded. Kyuhyun adjusted his glasses longer than he needed to, probably to stall time and think of a way to say something reassuring to the anxious redhead. He wiped the lenses of his dark framed glasses with the fabric at the bottom of his sweater before putting them back on, offering only a concoction of complete awkwardness and uncertainty as solace. He took several steps forward, placing a comforting hand on Hyukjae's shoulder.

          "Well Donghae doesn't  _remember_ me _,_ " Hyukjae replied bitterly, "so there's no need to worry about how he sees me."

     Pulling away from Kyuhyun's hold, Hyukjae approached the dining table, taking a seat. He clasped his hands together, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers with his shoulders hunched. He couldn't ignore the ache in his chest even if he tried his hardest. He hadn't expected to feel this hurt by Donghae's brutality, even though finding out Donghae had zero recollection of him as a person, let alone as his lover, wasn't exactly anything new at all. In fact, he knew he only had himself to blame for pinning hopes on the brunet. _I don't remember anything about him at all,_ the brunet had said. Those eight words alone pierced past his skin and through his heart like a blunt dagger, rupturing every cell in contact on its way in. All these years, Hyukjae had done everything in his power to mentally prepare himself for the day he'd reunite with the love of his life, but, like Hyukjae had just learnt the hard way, no amount of mental preparation would truly make you ready for something like this. He tutted under his breath, disappointed at how poorly he was handling everything. Kyuhyun approached the dining table gingerly, pulling out a chair opposite the auburn-haired man.

          "Do you still want to go ahead with the plan?" Kyuhyun asked, making a mental note to speak in as gentle of a tone as he could manage to the damaged soul. Years of being around his best friend post-accident had taught him the importance of minding the way you spoke around people, even if he wasn't someone who was very empathetic to begin with. Hyukjae glared at him.

          "Do you really think I could still go ahead with the plan after what happened?" Hyukjae snapped, burning holes through Kyuhyun. "I don't even know if I want him to remember me at all anymore, really."

          "You can't give up!"

          "Why not?"

          "You j-just..." Kyuhyun swallowed, clenching his fists as he reminded himself to calm down so that he wouldn't stammer. "You just can't. Donghae  _needs_ you."

     Hyukjae snickered, rolling his eyes back as he did. "Donghae? He doesn't even  _remember_ me, Kyuhyun. What the fuck are you even talking abou—"

          "Please," the raven-haired man begged, this time the tone of his voice dripping in desperation. "He doesn't have anyone else. He's my best friend, and I love him like a brother. I seriously do. For the last decade my parents and I have been the only ones keeping an eye on the man and treating him like family. No one else reached out to us, or searched for him. I may not know who  _you_ were to him back then, but you're obviously an important part of his past, and hopefully present  _and_ future, even if he struggles to remember you."

     A brief silence cut through the air, giving the pair time to think of what to say next. Hyukjae hung his head low, shaking it.

          "I'm very close to giving up," he admitted, dropping his shoulders. He began picking at dry skin from his chapped lips, a habit he'd never been able to rid himself of whenever he felt sorry, anxious, or nervous. For now, he attributed the skin-picking to his racing heart, a physical manifestation of the anxiety that flowed through his veins. Kyuhyun leaned forward.

          "Look, I know it was mean of me to ask Donghae if he remembers you the way I did. Poor choice of words on my part, I admit. I'm sorry. But please—please don't give up on him. I can see how much you love him. I never ever say shit like this but I can't deny how much love I can sense you feeling for him. It's crazy. Donghae has spent nearly the last decade trying to figure out his identity and piece his past together, and even though he never admits it because of his stubborn nature, I just _know_ how lonely he must've been feeling this whole time. I'm worried as fuck everyday that one day the loneliness will consume my best friend entirely, so your appearance is a big fucking blessing. Now please,  _please,_ stay. Don't give up on Donghae."

      The two of them sat in sombre silence, allowing a swarm of unanswered questions to fill the air like water entering a sunken ship. They remained in that predicament long enough for the main subject of their conversation to walk into the kitchen, completely unaware of what they'd been discussing. Donghae pulled a chair out, sitting at the dining table with the pair with a quizzical look on his face.

          "Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Donghae shrugged, tapping his fingers on the table to drive away the stillness in the air. "Where's the tea?"

     Kyuhyun and Hyukjae exchanged looks.

          "Tea?" Kyuhyun repeated, confused. "Oh right, tea!" He sprang up from his seat, grabbing the kettle off the stove to fill it with water from the tap. As he stood with his back to the lovers, he listened in on the quiet conversation happening between them, careful not to make things awkward for any of them. At the table, Donghae watched the auburn-haired man, who had paid little attention to him since his arrival. Hyukjae fidgeted, his eyes fixated on the empty space on the dining table in front of him. His brows were furrowed and his lips gathered in a mild pout, deep in thought. Donghae cleared his throat.

          "Are you okay?" He asked, reaching his hand out. He gently touched Hyukjae's hand, causing the redhead to flinch.

     Hyukjae looked up at Donghae. "I'm fine."

          "You don't look fine." Donghae swallowed, looking down. For some reason, he looked dejected. He hadn't expected Hyukjae to reply so coldly, especially since he'd mostly been warm to Donghae since they'd first met after all those years. Furthermore, Donghae was trying his best to warm up to him too, so his cold response kind of shot down the little courage he'd mustered to begin with. Donghae pursed his lips together, taking a deep breath. He tried again.

          "I...I want to go drinking tonight," he said softly before turning to Kyuhyun. "I want to go to that bar we used to visit often here."

     Kyuhyun placed the kettle back onto the stove and turned the knob, lighting a fire. He retrieved more mugs from inside the kitchen cabinet, rinsing them in the sink.

          "You mean the one near our high school?" He asked for clarification as he used a dish rag to wipe the mugs dry. Donghae folded his arms, nodding.

          "Yes. And I want  _both_ of you to come with me. That means you too, Lee Hyukjae."

     Surprised at the fact he'd been included in Donghae's little plan, Hyukjae tilted his head, frowning. He knew he had made plans with his sister that night, but he contemplated them, knowing that it was rare of the brunet to make the first move, even if that first move included a third-party. His mind raced, wondering what excuse he could give Sora to call off his plans with her. Perhaps he'd tell her he wanted to stay the night in Busan and have dinner with her some other day instead. Snapping out of his thoughts, Hyukjae looked up, smiling weakly at the brunet whose eyes had been staring right back at him.

          "I'd be more than glad too," Hyukjae said sweetly, maintaining his smile. "But I'll join the two of you later. I need to go to my apartment to get some stuff first; y'know, for work." He looked at his watch, a shiny gold metal with a sapphire blue face that snaked around his thin wrist. His smile faded. Hyukjae got up from his seat, smoothing his shirt. He stepped aside, pushing his chair in. Donghae grabbed his arm.

          "W-where are you going?" The brunet questioned, doing a poor job of hiding the panic in the tone of his voice. He let go of Hyukjae's hand, retreating it with an embarrassed look on his face.

     Hyukjae smirked, ruffling the brunet's hair. "Home. Like I said, I need to get some things first. Just text me the address of that bar you were talking about and I'll be there." He turned to Kyuhyun, who was standing against the counter top with his arms folded, listening in on the verbal exchange that had transpired in front of him quietly. He shot Kyuhyun a look.

          "It was nice meeting you, Kyuhyun." Hyukjae semi-winked at the man, starting towards the living room to get his bag. "I'll see the two of you later!"

     The redhead disappeared, and seconds later the slam of the front door resounded through the house. Donghae looked at his hands with flushed cheeks, blinking profusely.  _What just happened?_ He wondered to himself, glossing over the parts of his hands that made contact with the redhead's skin earlier.  _Should I tell Kyuhyun?_ Donghae looked up, only to see that Kyuhyun had his back turned to him. The kettle whistled, prompting his best friend to turn off the stove and pour the piping hot water into a teapot he'd found in the cabinet. Steam rose from inside the teapot, fogging Kyuhyun's glasses. Donghae watched as his best friend set the kettle back onto the stove, taking off his glasses to wipe off the steam that had condensed on the lenses of his glasses with the hem of his sweater. Donghae bit his lip.

          "Kyuhyun ah," the brunet called out, his heart palpitating at the speed of light. Kyuhyun turned around to face his best friend after dipping a tea sachet into the teapot, smiling gently.

          "Yes?"

     Donghae hesitated, rubbing his chapped lower lip with his thumb. He lowered his voice.

          "Don't tell Lee Hyukjae this," he whispered, leaning forward, "but I remember him. I remember everything."

 

* * *

 

 

     Starting the engine of his car, Hyukjae backed out of the carpark, his face a blank slate. He carefully drove out onto the main road, steering the wheel with his right hand as he turned on the radio with his left. The radio crackled, the reception taking its time to connect. In seconds, the noise blaring from the speakers began to clear up, and the voice of a man, presumably a radio DJ, filled the car. Hyukjae frowned. He still felt the sting of both Donghae and Kyuhyun's blunt exchange, particularly about Donghae not remembering him. It was a special, newfound ache that took up space in his heart. To lose contact with the love of your life after leaving the country to pursue your studies was one thing; to find him again years later only to find out the man had zero recollection of his own about you, was another. Hyukjae stepped on the accelerator, gradually increasing the speed of his car, zooming past a few streets towards his home in Busan. He tried his best to ignore the throbbing ache in his head and heart, but they haunted him like the ghost of Christmas past.  _He claims he's a huge deal to you,_ Kyuhyun had said almost mockingly, to which Donghae replied simply:  _No, I don't remember anything about him at all._ Their words echoed in his head again and again, wearing him down. He turned the steering wheel, turning the car left, entering the front porch of a light blue bungalow.

          "We all go through heartbreak at some point in our lives; some more than others." The DJ rattled on.

     Parking the car, Hyukjae turned off the engine and unbuckled his seat belt, sighing. He rubbed his face, breathing heavily before grabbing his bag in the seat next to him. Alighting from the car, Hyukjae pressed a button on his car key, a loud resounding beep echoing through the air to signify that his car was locked. He walked to the front of the bungalow, racing up the short stairs onto the veranda, taking out a ring of keys. Unlocking the front door, Hyukjae entered the dark house, turning the light switch on. A dim yellow light illuminated the first floor of the bungalow, a familiar homely scent engulfing him. Hyukjae was home. He kicked off his shoes and set his bag onto the black couch in the living room and sat down beside it, reaching for his phone from inside his bag. He dialed something on it before pressing it against his ear, waiting as the call tone filled its speaker. The line clicked.

          "Hello? Noona, it's me. Yeah. Busan. No. Um, noona. I can't make it tonight. I've got some things to settle here in Busan. I'm sorry, noona. I'll make it up to you. Huh? Oh, uh, no... It has nothing to do with him. Yep. Okay noona. I love you. Bye."

     Sliding the phone into his back pocket, Hyukjae got off the couch and started climbing the stairs to his bedroom. He pushed the door to the first room by the stairs open, entering a pastel orange room and coughed as the stale air hit him. It wasn't a surprise to him that swinging the door open alone had sent a thick speckle of dust flying into the air, considering that it had been at least a week since anyone had set foot in the house. He walked over to the four-tiered bookshelf next to his bed and ran his fingers over the spines of books on the second tier, pulling out a thick, green hardcover. Hyukjae flipped the book open, only to reveal a deep, square hole cut into the middle of page 365; a secret compartment that hid a a black velvety ring box. He retrieved the box from the hole and closed the book, returning it to its position on the shelf before jumping onto his bed, sighing.

          "Should I?" Hyukjae asked himself aloud, studying and turning the box nestled in the palm of his hand. He knew he'd waited all those years to finally use it, especially since he'd been saving up for it since his twentieth birthday, but something about the ache that had grown in his chest stalled him.  _What if Donghae says no?_ _Maybe I should wait._ Hyukjae cracked the box open, revealing a beautiful rose gold band inside. Suddenly, Hyukjae sat up, worried.  _Shit,_ he cussed, picking up the ring.  _What if it doesn't fit anymore?_ He bit his lip and rolled the ring in between his index finger and thumb, his heart thumping against his chest. He couldn't make up his mind.  _Should I ask Kyuhyun for advice?_ He wondered, returning the ring to its slot in the ring box.  _He's the only one who's remained by Donghae's side all these years, anyway._

     Hyukjae pressed the box against his lips.

          "Lady Luck be with me," he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do leave comments so I know you're still keeping up with this story. I can see the hits/how many people have read them but I have no idea what anyone thinks of it, especially of the later chapters. :-(
> 
> Nonetheless, thank you so much for investing your time in reading this slowburn. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing this, especially since this is my first chaptered fic.


	12. The Fire Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What would you do if I said I remembered everything?" He blurted out, regretting each word as soon as it had left his mouth and mind. Donghae fidgeted, anxious and worried about what Hyukjae might say in response. He kept his head down, only taking a peek at the man from the corner of his eye and nothing more. Hyukjae, who was as composed as ever—of course he had to be, he was driving—smiled to himself. The lights were too dim, but Donghae could sort of tell that the man was blushing. Or at least he had a hunch he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was rather bittersweet to write. Enjoy!

     Business was as usual in the dingy neighbourhood pub in central Busan. Dim yellow ceiling lights gave life to the pub's dull, maroon walls, lined with framed monochromatic pictures of famous local singers from the '90s and several abstract paintings. Aside from the cacophony of high and low, happy, angry and sad voices coming from the pub's patrons, a melodious female voice, accompanied by a live band filled the air, matching the bar's laid-back ambiance. The strong scent of burnt cigarettes and alcohol wafted within the four walls of the pub, and at the back of the pub stood an old, broken jukebox; it was faulty for sure, but just the look of it added to the pub's vintage appearance. At the corner of the room, perched on a tall wooden stool was Donghae, in a black t-shirt, brown leather jacket and tight, black jeans. He'd made the effort to style his dark brown hair up with a bit of wax, and basically doused himself in cologne for the night. Donghae rarely ever made the effort to look good, but tonight was different; tonight was special. He took a sip of gin and tonic, keeping his eyes fixated on the entrance of the pub. A young woman and her lover walked in, followed by two old men and then a few others. No sign of Hyukjae. Donghae looked at his watch; roughly twenty minutes had passed since nine, and he was getting a little impatient, or rather, worried. It was Hyukjae, after all, that had decided on meeting at nine.

     Just then, a familiar figure; his auburn hair styled up in a faux mohawk, donning a black muscle tank with light blue jeans ripped in all the right places and black boots; walked into the bar with a huge smile plastered across his pale face. Donghae's breathing hitched; biting his lip from behind the glass that he held in front of his face, his eyes followed the man, yearning. _What a treat for the eyes,_ he thought to himself, swallowing. The man climbed onto a stool opposite him, raising his brows.

          "Where's Kyuhyun?" Hyukjae asked, looking around. Donghae froze. He nearly forgot he'd announced that he wanted  _both_ of them at the pub drinking with him earlier that day, but that the plan had changed after Hyukjae had left the house and he'd told Kyuhyun the truth about his memory loss.  _Shit,_ Donghae cursed internally,  _what the fuck do I tell him?_ He took another sip from his glass and shook his head, playing cool.

          "Kyu's not here," Donghae answered simply. "Had to meet his girlfriend or something. Anyway, aren't you going to order a drink?" He nodded towards the bar. Hyukjae followed his gaze, glancing at the bar before turning back to Donghae, shaking his head in refusal. He clasped his hands together, resting his chin on them before pursing his chapped lips.

          "I can't drink tonight. I drove here. And besides, I'll have to take care of you if  _you_ get drunk, don't I?"

     Donghae nodded in agreement, smiling. "Right. So you're just going to watch me drink?"

          "Yes sir."

          "Boring."

     Hyukjae snickered, arching a brow. "Oh? Like you're so fun."

          "I am and you know it," Donghae snapped, finishing the last of his drink. He slammed his glass down and licked his lips. "Since you drove here, then let's not spend the night with you  _watching_ me drink. I want you to take me somewhere."

     The brunet reached into his leather jacket, retrieving a folded, creased piece of paper. Hyukjae watched as he unfolded the frayed yellow thing, revealing a map of Busan. Placing his finger on the middle of the map, Donghae began to trace out a route with his finger; a route that went northward of Busan; and stopped at a spot between Geumjong-gu and Dongnae-gu. He tilted his head, smiling.

          "I want to go to Geumgang Park."

     Frowning, Hyukjae glanced from the map, to Donghae, and then back.

          "Geumgang...Geumgang Park?" He repeated, rubbing his chin. "Why do you want to go there at this time of the night?"

          "I'll tell you why when we're there."

          "But it'll take  _hours._ We might only reach the park at midnight!"

     Donghae pouted, sliding his hand across the table. He touched Hyukjae's cold hand, wrapping his fingers around the man's.

          "Please?" He begged, a puppy-eyed look conquering his otherwise gentle expression. "It's the least you can do for making me wait about half an hour all alone here."

     The pace of Hyukjae's beating heart doubled at the brunet's touch. He was almost certain the tip of his ears and the flesh on his cheeks had turned pink from shyness, but that wasn't enough to make him pull his hand away at all. In fact, he enjoyed it. He longed for it, even. Apart from that one night of intimacy only made possible by Donghae's drunken stupor and occasional brushes of skin against each other, Hyukjae was deprived of touch from the one person he had loved and searched for all these years. Even if the man didn't remember him at all, Hyukjae didn't mind. His heart softened. How could he deny the owner of the glistening eyes that stared back at him his request? He'd drive him to the park for whatever reason, even if it took them years to get there. Maybe then he'd be able to make up for lost time. It did, however, puzzle him that Donghae had requested to go to  _that_ park of all places. After all, that was where they'd last kissed, not that Donghae would remember of course.

          "Alright," Hyukjae relented, smiling softly, "but we'll have to get going right now. Plus, there's no guarantee we'll be able to reach before midnight."

          "Okay."

     Getting off their stools, the pair made their way towards the exit, out onto the quiet streets of Busan. Hyukjae instinctively grabbed the brunet by the hand and led him down the pavement, turning right at a corner, leading them towards a large, black eight-seater car parked in a dark alleyway. He whipped out his car key and pressed a button, triggering its doors to unlock. Hyukjae opened the passenger door, waiting for Donghae to get in. Then he walked around the car, getting into the car from the driver's side. The engine made a low humming noise upon having its ignition turned on. Hyukjae looked over his shoulder, backing the car out of the alleyway carefully as he coordinated calculated movements of his hands and feet, taking control of the four-wheeled machine. Meanwhile, Donghae fumbled with the numerous buttons and knobs on a keypad to the left of the steering wheel, turning on the air-conditioning and radio at once.

          "So," Hyukjae began, driving the car onto the main road. "Care to explain your sudden decision to head to Dongnae-gu at nearly ten at night?"

     Donghae continued to fumble with the buttons until the noise emitted from the speakers began to clear up. The sound of a soft rock ballad began to fill the car. Donghae leaned back, smiling in satisfaction.

          "I don't really have much of an explanation to offer, really," he answered, looking out the window. "It's been years since I went to that park, and I just felt like going there tonight—with you."

     The car picked up pace, dashing past several streetlamps on the relatively quiet road of Busan. Donghae panicked, absentmindedly placing his hand on Hyukjae's lap as he held his breath. _Perhaps my fear of being on a moving car will never cease to exist,_ he thought. The car slowed to a halt some fifteen minutes later at the sight of an overhead traffic light that transitioned from amber to red. Hyukjae looked down at the hand that now dug into the fabric and flesh of his thigh. Donghae retracted his hand from Hyukjae's lap, sheepish.

          "Sorry," he apologised, staring ahead.

     Hyukjae smirked. "Don't say sorry. If anything, it should be me apologising for startling you like that. I just wanted to get us to Dongnae-gu as soon as possible. My bad." He cranked a knob, increasing the radio's volume. A gentle ballad filled the otherwise quiet air, and Hyukjae began humming along to the tune of it. For some reason, the man's humming sent chills down the back of Donghae's spine. He pressed his lips together, making a mental note not to show any sort of emotion in case Hyukjae would realise...that he remembered. Everything.

          "You used to love this song," Hyukjae remarked, glancing at Donghae with a faint smile painted across his lips. "You'd get so excited when it played at the places we used to visit, or if it came on the radio, like right now. You used to call it  _our_ song."

     Donghae shifted in his seat, blinking his eyes profusely. He made sure to calm himself before speaking.

          "I-is that so," he stammered. "Where were the places we used to visit then?"

     Upon firing the question; a question he already kind of knew the answers to; he watched Hyukjae's reaction. Hyukjae moved uncomfortably in his seat, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. After a few seconds of silence, he turned to look at Donghae, offering the same faint smile he had given him only moments ago.

          "There were so many places, Donghae." He stepped on the gas pedal as soon as the traffic light switched to green, causing the both of them to slump against the backrests of their seats. "Geumgang Park was one of them, actually. It surprised me when you said you wanted to go there. I thought you... I thought you—"

          "—remembered?" Donghae interjected.

     Hyukjae nodded slowly at first, and then brief and quick. "Yeah."

          "You really want me to remember something;  _anything;_ don't you?"

     Once more, Hyukjae nodded, hoping that it would somehow translate his desperation and hope into something more. He kept his eyes on the road, turning the steering wheel following the bend of the road ahead of them. They were almost half of the way to Dongnae-gu by then, which was much quicker than either of them had expected. Thank god the roads weren't as busy that night, then. Donghae interlaced his fingers, rubbing his thumbs against the back of his hands. A burning question kept flashing in his head like a neon sign. He contemplated asking it, and when the silence between them became too much for him, the question popped out of him like a Jack In The Box.

          "What would you do if I said I remembered everything?" He blurted out, regretting each word as soon as it had left his mouth and mind. Donghae fidgeted, anxious and worried about what Hyukjae might say in response. He kept his head down, only taking a peek at the man from the corner of his eye and nothing more. Hyukjae, who was as composed as ever—of course he had to be, he was driving—smiled to himself. The lights were too dim, but Donghae could sort of tell that the man was blushing. Or at least he had a hunch he was.

          "Well I'd be insanely happy," Hyukjae stated simply, grinning till his gums showed. "More importantly, I'd make sure you never forget ever again. I've waited too long to find you again."

     Bunching the fabric at his chest in a tight fist, Donghae darted his eyes. His heart was racing.  _Calm down, you idiot._ He inhaled deeply, holding his breath for about five seconds before breathing out. He wasn't sure what to say next, but he had to think of something. He didn't want to leave the conversation hanging awkwardly.

     And yet "bummer" was all he managed to say.  _What the actual fuck, Lee Donghae._ He faked a yawn, stretching his arms out in front of him. He wanted out. Or at least he wanted to escape the awkward atmosphere that  _he_ had caused for a while. He looked at Hyukjae; the man didn't seem to bothered by the conversation. It was either that, or he was incredibly good at suppressing how he really felt. Either way, Donghae wanted out, fast. He shifted in his seat once more, turning to his right with his head tilted.

          "Wake me up when we're there," he mumbled, forcing his eyes shut before drifting off.

 

* * *

 

     The engine died, and in place of its low hum was the distant echo of crickets in the grass and the howling of a cold night's wind. Hyukjae turned, nudging Donghae.

          "Donghae, wake up," he said gently, shaking the brunet's arm. "We're here."

     Groggy Donghae wriggled about uncomfortably, grimacing. He opened his eyes slowly, wiping the drool that had escaped his lips with the back of his hand. He blinked several times, taking in his surroundings. The car was parked at the side of a road atop a mountain, presumably where Geumgang Park was. The atmosphere was quiet aside from the chirping of crickets, and there was nobody on the streets.  _Of course not,_ Donghae thought to himself.  _We're the only idiots who'd come here at—_ he looked at his watch— _the stroke of midnight. Nice._ He unbuckled his seat belt and stretched, groaning. Hyukjae got off the car and walked to the front of it, standing with his back facing Donghae and his hands on his hips. Donghae followed suit soon after, alighting from the car. He slammed the door shut and walked several steps forward, inhaling the fresh air with a contented smile on his face. He looked around; to his left was a poorly-lit pavement lined by shrubs that led to small temple at the end of the park, and to his right, was an off-road makeshift walkway that parted some sort of dark forested area. He pondered over whether it would be a good idea to venture off in either direction at this time of the night. Instead, he decided to play it safe, walking to the front of the car where Hyukjae was. He climbed onto hood and sat down, swinging his legs.

          "So," he began, breaking the silence. "Tell me what we used to do here."

     Hyukjae turned around and licked his chapped lips, the sound of gravel shifting under his feet punctuating his movement. He slid his hands into his pockets and smiled weakly.

          "We used to come here in the afternoon," he started to explain, his voice no louder than the crickets chirping in the distance. "There used to be carnivals held here, so we'd come here to play at the stalls a lot. I remember once winning you a teddy bear at some ring toss game. You loved it. Named the bear Koongie or something." He walked over to Donghae's side, casually leaning against the hood of the car. He turned to look up at the brunet who was staring back at him, doe-eyed.

          "How old were we?" Donghae asked innocently, trying to make more sense of the memories that he had only a faint memory of.

     Hyukjae shrugged. "Eighteen, I think. We were eighteen and in love and still very much in our honeymoon phase." He chuckled to himself, looking down before continuing.

          "The last time we were here was my favourite memory of us."

     Upon hearing this, Donghae jut his head to his right, frowning.

          "Favourite memory? What happened?"

     Hyukjae hesitated. He looked around, visibly uncomfortable judging by how tightly he clenched his jaw. He licked his lips again and stared into the distance, probably going over what he wanted to say next in his head. He didn't even notice that sly Donghae had scooted closer to him, sitting on the car's hood with his thigh against Hyukjae's bicep. Leaning forward, Donghae stared directly at Hyukjae's face, pursing his lips. He could read the insecurity off the man's body language; his shoulders were slumped, and his eyes, albeit staring intently into the distance ahead of them, were empty. Every ounce of confidence Donghae thought the man normally had had escaped him, leaving behind the frail, diffident shadow of a man behind. Donghae concluded that perhaps, Hyukjae was worried about appearing overly excited about a past that only he remembered—or so he thinks. Donghae wasn't sure if he wanted to keep his secret from Hyukjae any longer, considering how broken the man looked upon being asked about his favourite memory of them. He decided to go with the flow.

          "We were nineteen, and it was the last day we managed to spend together before I left the country." Hyukjae's voice was low, almost solemn even. "There was no carnival that day, and we'd arrived here at nearly eight at night. There was no one here—kinda like tonight. It was perfect. Since it was the last night we spent together, there was a lot—I'm not kidding—a  _lot_ of hugging and—"

          "—kissing?" Donghae interrupted. Blood rushed to his face.  _Why did I say that, ugh. Just let the man finish his damn sentence, for crying out loud, Lee Donghae._

Hyukjae nodded shyly. "Mmhm." He kicked at the gravel underneath his shoes, biting his lip.

          "I was so,  _so_ in love with you," he continued saying, hanging his head. "I still am."

Donghae winced.  _I have to tell him._ He dug his fingers into his thighs, anxious.  _No. Not yet. Let him reveal a little more._

          "What else?"

          "Well..." Hyukjae lolled his head back, studying the sky for as long as he could to stall time. "To be honest, I'm not sure if finding you after all these years was a good thing."

     Silence. If hearts could freeze in the warmth of a live body, then Donghae's would've frozen there and then. He stared at Hyukjae, whose eyes were still fixated on the navy blue sky above them, stars twinkling in the distance. He most definitely hadn't expected to hear that because, after all, wasn't the ball in  _his_ court? Didn't Donghae have control of the entire situation, and wasn't it _Hyukjae_ who was under _his_ spell? What was happening?

          "What do you mean by that?" Donghae asked, each word coated in urgency. Hyukjae hung his head low, picking at the calluses on the palm of his hand; a habit that came to him whenever he was caught in a situation backed against a wall in the figment of his imagination. The corners of his lips lifted, but not in a happy sort of way. He was smiling, yes, but something about his smile was...sad. Mournful, even. He turned to Donghae, swallowing.

          "I think I may have felt better if I didn't go searching for you, y'know? Perhaps I could've just...lived the rest of my life in blissful ignorance, believing that even if the universe hated us, even if we were separated and never to meet again, you still remembered—and loved—me, at least in my memory." Hyukjae shook his head as if to ward off silly, irrational thoughts that came firing at him like missiles. "I'm not gonna lie. Finding out you forgot all about me hurt, even if it isn't your fault. I guess years of holding onto hope made me delusional. I really thought I'd find you and we'd finally get our happy ending. Obviously, I was wrong."

     Panic surged through Donghae's veins.  _No, no, no._ He frowned, his heart racing.  _This isn't what I thought would happen. Do something, Donghae. Do something!_

          "I thought about it, y'know?" Hyukjae continued, oblivious to Donghae's discomfort. "I have two options. The first is to make you remember. Maybe even start from scratch, even if the possibility of you never falling in love with me remains. It'll be hard, but I thought maybe it'd be worth it." He paused briefly, taking several deep breaths. "The second is to let you go, and move on."

     Hyukjae reached into his pocket, retrieving a small ring box. He tightened his grip on the black box, shaking it in his hand as he pursed his lips. His eyes began to glisten with tears.

          "I saved up for this ring since I was twenty," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I told myself I'd find you and propose to you."

      _No._

          "But I think it's time I let you go and move on."

      _God, no._

          "I remember!" Donghae blurted out, grabbing Hyukjae's arm frantically. "I fucking remember!"

          "I'm sorry?"

     Donghae jumped off the hood of the car and closed in on Hyukjae, grabbing him by the arms and shaking him slightly. His eyes had grown twice their original size.

          "I remember everything, Hyukjae." He blinked profusely, smacking his lips. "I remember you. I remember  _us._ I remember everything."

     Stunned, Hyukjae backed away, dropping the ring box and staring at Donghae with unblinking eyes. A soft look washed over his face at first, followed by a look of bitterness and spite.

          "Don't say shit like that just to make me feel better." Hyukjae's voice was low and livid, almost as if he didn't believe any of the words that had left the brunet's mouth, even if he really wanted to. He squeezed past the brunet, walking forward until he was far enough so Donghae couldn't hear him crying. He looked at the sky, warm tears staining his pale cheeks. He hated crying. He absolutely resented it. He rarely ever let anyone see him cry, and now that the tears had begun to fall he wanted no one, not even Donghae, to see him. Staring at the man's back, Donghae approached the man gingerly. He knew Hyukjae was crying; he'd have been able to hear his sobbing from a mile away even if Hyukjae tried his hardest to silence himself.  _How do I convince him I remember?_ Donghae wondered to himself as he inched closer. Once he reached Hyukjae, he carefully slid his arms around the man so as not to startle him, embracing him from behind. Hyukjae's body shook from the occasional sob, which only made Donghae hug him tighter.

          "Please don't give up on us," he begged, nuzzling Hyukjae's neck gently. "Please."

     Hyukjae's breathing hitched and then gradually, all the tension in his muscles frittered away.

          "I admit, I remembered nothing of you at first," Donghae resumed, mumbling into Hyukjae's shoulder. "But then you showed up, and you showed me the photos and the house, and since then I've been having... _flashbacks_. Dreams. They were painful at first. Hurt my head whenever they happened. But I began to make sense of them, and I... I don't know how much I remember, but I  _remember._ I remember you. I remember  _us._ "

     Turning around, Hyukjae cupped the shorter man's face, sniffling.

          "You promise you're not lying," he uttered hoarsely as more of a statement than a question.

          "Yes."

          "You promise you're not saying all of this just to make me feel better."

          " _Yes._ "

     Hyukjae darted his eyes to and fro between Donghae's eyes and lips.

          "When did you start remembering?"

     Surprised at the sudden question, Donghae pulled away, looking down.

          "Since you first showed up," he answered quietly. "Near the waterfall."

          "So you knew."

          "What?"

          "You knew everything," Hyukjae murmured, "when you came over, drunk."

     Donghae shifted uncomfortably. "No. I don't remember doing that."

          "But you  _knew._ You knew and you lied about remembering me, even in front of Kyuhyun." The tone of Hyukjae's voice sat on the fence, between anger and disappointment. "You knew it hurt me and you kept going."

          "I didn't want to get your hopes up," Donghae argued, grabbing Hyukjae's wrist. "I wanted to make sure I remembered enough before I'd tell you."

     He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open, revealing a photograph that stuck out of one of its pockets. Taking it out, he handed it to Hyukjae before hanging his head once more. Hyukjae raised the photograph to his face, squinting. Within the white borders of the polaroid photograph was a young couple,  _young Hyukjae and Donghae_ , standing closely in front of a large stone sign that read  _Geumgang Park._ In the photograph, they were hugging, paying little to no attention to whoever it was behind the camera, their eyes fixated only on each other.

          "I found this in my room," Donghae explained, touching Hyukjae's face. "It's the reason why I wanted to come here tonight. Turn it around."

     Doing as told, Hyukjae flipped the photograph and on its back were words scrawled in black marker:

           _We'll meet here again someday, I promise._

     Speechless as he was, Hyukjae looked from the photograph, to the delicate features of Donghae's face highlighted by a street lamp, gulping. A web of emotions wrapped around his head and heart, but most importantly, the anger and disappointment that once echoed in his voice had worn away. How could he be upset with the man he'd loved for nearly the last decade over something that wasn't within their control? As cruel as life had been to them, none of this was Donghae's fault. Perhaps he should stop blaming himself for what had happened too.

          "Why tonight?" He asked, only a decibel louder than the crickets in the park.

     Donghae shrugged.

          "Dunno. I just couldn't keep it to myself any longer, I guess. I told Kyuhyun about it earlier today. I told him not to come tonight. I—"

     A kiss; a long, needy, deep kiss interrupted Donghae's words like a flower blooming in spring, or rain showering a dry dessert. Hyukjae reeled him in, desperation and longing motivating their every move. They tangoed under the moonlight, bodies as one, moving together towards the car. Hyukjae slid a hand behind Donghae's neck and pulled him closer, backing him into the front of the car before lifting the brunet onto the hood of their car, continuing their kiss. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies; perhaps this was the years of separation translating into need, or lust even, but neither of them minded. Hyukjae broke away for a moment, glossing his eyes over Donghae. He leaned forward, his stomach resting on the space in between Donghae's legs, peppering the man's neck with light kisses.

          "I've missed you  _so much,_ " Hyukjae whispered, a rogue tear rolling down his cheek. He wrapped his arms around Donghae, sobbing gently into his shoulder. Donghae kissed the man's forehead, once, twice, five times maybe, smiling.

          "Missed you more," he croaked, trying his best not to cry. "It's been lonely."

     Hyukjae looked up. "Never again. From now on, you'll never be alone."

          "Promise?"

     Smiling sincerely, Hyukjae nodded. "Promise."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do ya think? Was it cruel of Donghae to have kept things hidden this whole time?  
> Let me know what you think, and thank you for keeping up with Take The Dive.


	13. Opera House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Up until that moment, Donghae never thought he'd believe in a love like that—a love that lived through more downs than ups; a love that got intertwined and lost in the web of life and its complications, only to be recovered years later, bruised but as beautiful as it was in the beginning. The rest was history.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While writing this, I was listening to Cigarettes After Sex—"Opera House", to be specific, hence the title of this chapter. I'd recommend you listening to it before/while you read this. It really kinda sets the mood. Part of the lyrics go like this:
> 
> I was meant to love you & always keep you in my life  
> I was meant to love you,  
> I knew I loved you at first sight
> 
> If I abandoned love I’d be a man without dreams  
> I’d rather be out there staring death right between its eyes now

      An orange streak of light entered the room through a crack in the curtains. Morning had arrived. Apart from the soft snores that escaped the two, the room was otherwise quiet. Donghae groaned, opening his eyes slowly, absorbing the appearance of the room he was in once more, just as he had when he first set foot here at four in the morning. He smiled contentedly, snuggling closer to the other man in bed in slight disbelief. He couldn't believe that after all this time, after all the painful flashbacks and struggles to make sense of disconnected memories, he was here now, lying in bed with the man who had loved and searched for him for nearly the last decade. He raised his left hand, placing it against the sunlight to make sure the ring on his finger was still there. The silver band glistened, and he couldn't help but to flush at the thought of how the previous night had transpired.  _Be with me,_ Hyukjae had pleaded,  _be with me now and forever, Donghae. Please. Let's get married and run away. Together._ Donghae had chuckled in response, hiding his wide grin behind his hands before nodding profusely.  _Of course I will,_ he'd said softly, and the pair had shared a long overdue and passionate kiss—one of many long, passionate kisses for the night, actually. Up until that moment, Donghae never thought he'd believe in a love like that—a love that lived through more downs than ups; a love that got intertwined and lost in the web of life and its complications, only to be recovered years later, bruised but as beautiful as it was in the beginning. The rest was history.

 

     Turning over, Hyukjae whined. He blinked his eyes open slowly, his lips curling up at the sight of the man staring back at him.

          "Hey," Donghae purred against him, drawing circles on Hyukjae's bare chest gently.

     Hyukjae scooted closer, kissing Donghae's temple.

          "Good morning, Hae." He snaked an arm over Donghae and reached up to cup his chin, rubbing his thumb against his cheek. "Had a good sleep?"

     Donghae nodded eagerly, certain that at that very moment his cheeks and the tip of his ears were tainted pink. He could've sworn that if he had the power to control time, he'd want them frozen in this exact moment forever. His hand moved from drawing circles on Hyukjae's chest to somewhere more... sensitive, southward. Trailing his fingers over the man's soft skin, Donghae smirked, halting his hand at a spot that was _dangerously_ close to Hyukjae's—

          Hyukjae laughed nervously. "What are you doing, Hae?"

     Sitting up, Donghae ripped the cover off of them, tossing it onto the floor. He grinned coquettishly, crawling over to the space in between Hyukjae's outstretched legs.

          "Saying good morning to what's mine, that's what." He curled his fingers over the waistband of Hyukjae's briefs, pulling it downwards to free the swollen shaft underneath it. Sitting with his legs tucked beneath him, Donghae bent forward, licking his lips. He kissed the frenulum on the underside of his lover's shaft gingerly, sending shivers down Hyukjae's spine. Hyukjae's body trembled in response, punctuated by the soft moan that escaped his slightly parted lips. He propped himself up onto his elbows and looked down, swallowing. Ghosting his lips up and down the length of Hyukjae's shaft and planting soft kisses every now and then to tease the man, Donghae smiled. He hovered over Hyukjae, moving upwards to connect at the lips. Tongues dancing within the walls of their mouths, their hands roamed all over each other's bare upper bodies, exploring every inch. Donghae ground his hips against Hyukjae's, their crotches rubbing against each other and separated only by the fabric of Donghae's boxers. Hyukjae whined, breaking away from the kiss.

          "Tear your boxers off," he ordered.

     Doing as told, Donghae straightened his back, shimmying out of his boxers and tossing it aside, unveiling his erect member in its full glory. Hovering over Hyukjae once more with his knees on either side of the man's hips, Donghae threw his hands up, combing his fingers through his hair. Light peeping through the curtains illuminated the dips and curves of the toned muscles on Donghae's body, and Hyukjae smacked his lips in delight. His pupils dilated in response, the dark holes in his eyes indicating a newfound lust for the man he had always loved.

     He didn't want it to be lust, though.

          "Make love to me," he said softly, staring into Donghae's eyes. And Donghae's glare,  _oh_ his  _glare—_ it was primal at first, but at Hyukjae's words, it softened. He dropped his shoulders and tilted his head, smiling. He leaned forward, pressing his body against Hyukjae's and planting a soft kiss underneath his earlobe.

          "Of course," he breathed into Hyukjae's neck, and Hyukjae felt his lips curl into a smile against his skin. "I've only ever made love to you, anyway."

     Donghae trailed gentle kisses along his lover's jawline before meeting him at the corner of his lips. He paused briefly, staring deep into Hyukjae's eyes.

          "Thank you for loving me," he whispered, his eyes glistening.

     Hyukjae beamed. "Thank you for letting me."

 

     Continuing where he'd left off, Donghae kissed the corner of Hyukjae's mouth gently, before roaming over his lips, breathing deeply. The rise and fall of their chests began to sync, and as if almost telepathically they crashed their mouths against each other, kissing desperately, becoming one. Donghae ran his fingers through his lover's hair and pushed his tongue past his lips, eliciting a soft, breathy moan from the both of them.  _Slowly,_ he reminded himself, releasing his grip on the tufts of Hyukjae's hair. He broke the kiss for a moment, nuzzling his nose against Hyukjae's. Then they smiled at each other, hearts teeming with an odd concoction of warmth and serenity and all the good stuff—or love, simply put. Donghae pecked Hyukjae's cheek, their smiles remaining.

          "Can we"—he kissed Hyukjae's lips—"stay like this"—and again—"forever?"

     Hyukjae raised his head, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Forever? Unfortunately, no, but for maybe another two hours, yes."

          "Two hours?" Donghae froze. "Wait.. why? Where are you going?"

     Laughing, Hyukjae nodded towards the briefcase sat on the windowsill. "I'm in Busan for work, remember? I'm meeting a client at eleven."

          "Oh?" Donghae frowned. "I thought you were lying about that just so you had an excuse for your meeting with Kyuhyun."

          "Only partially."

          "Oh."

     A deafening silence followed, and for a while, neither of them fought to break it. They remained as they were, bodies pressed against each other, except Hyukjae was staring intently at Donghae, whereas Donghae looked elsewhere. Hyukjae watched the younger man's Adam's apple bob several times, to which he too, frowned. He knew Donghae was trying really hard to hide his disappointment. The years apart may have changed him, but Donghae, despite the amnesia, was still the same.

          "Are you upset?" He asked, cupping Donghae's cheeks in his palms while rubbing his thumbs across them tenderly. Donghae's Adam's apple bobbed once more, and this time, Hyukjae could hear him swallow. Hesitantly, Donghae shook his head, forcing a weak smile across his face.

          "I'm not." He answered, deadpan.

     But Hyukjae knew he was nothing short of disappointed. He could see it in his eyes, even if Donghae had mastered the art of masking his feelings. To him, Donghae, even with his fake nonchalant expression, was adorable, and it only made him want to pepper the man with soft, wet kisses. He smiled, crinkling his eyes and raising his head slightly to plant a kiss on the tip of Donghae's cold nose.

          "I know you are," he murmured, "and I don't mind it at all. You're still the same sweet, clingy person I fell in love with all those years ago."

     Scrunching his face as if deep in thought, Hyukjae went over the few solutions that he could think of to, y'know, appease his sulky partner. Donghae, on the other hand, waited with bated breath, struggling to keep his guard up and stealing glances at the other man to see if he could finally stop pretending he was okay.

          "Y'know," Hyukjae started cautiously, "I was thinking of going over to Sora's place tomorrow—you remember Sora, right? I was thinking of breaking the news to her."

     Donghae arched an eyebrow. "Breaking what news?" He watched as Hyukjae snaked his hand southwards, grabbing Donghae's wrist. He held it up, like a trophy post-marathon, beaming. The ring glistened.

          " _This_ news," Hyukjae said. "Of  _us._ I want her to know that we're engaged. I want to formally introduce you to her."

     He kept it concealed, but in his chest, Donghae could feel fresh flowers blooming, vines wrapped around the bones of his ribcage, protecting his heart.  _Is this what it feels like to be in love?_ He pressed his lips together; didn't want to appear too excited. He nodded. He nodded and nodded and barely even noticed that all the disappointed clouding up his insides had turned into mist, dissipating. Rationality remained, however.

          "Don't you think it's too soon?" He began to reason. "I mean, how long has it been since we first met at the waterfall? Does Sora even really know who I am—who I was—to you? I mean if I were her I'd be surprised as heck if my brother came to me and told me out of nowhere that he's engaged, and anyway, what if she doesn't like me? Should we just hang out together and get to know each other first? I mean, making sure my future sister-in-law likes me is important to me too and I don't know if—"

 ****Hyukjae wrapped his hand around Donghae's mouth. "You talk too much sometimes."

          "Reasonably," Donghae argued, muffled.

     Hyukjae let go of his wrist and instead, cupped Donghae's face, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

          "Well I don't think eight years is too soon," he whispered against Donghae's lips, smiling. "Trust me, Hae. Now can we please—", their eyes fell between them, "—finish what we started? Clock is ticking."

     Before Donghae could even refuse, Hyukjae pulled him in, reuniting them at the lips and becoming one once again. They became one again and again for the next two hours, and in his mind, Donghae declared it—that this, indeed, was love.

 

* * *

 

     Out flew a forest green sweater, and then a pair of jeans, followed by several other clothes items and soon enough, the closet was empty. Donghae took a step back, hands on hips, frowning in his boxers. He was back in Jejudo; Hyukjae would be arriving in approximately half an hour, and Donghae had absolutely no idea what to wear. He felt pressured, like he'd have to outdo his usual ensembles, and impress. He recalled the first time he'd seen Lee Sora at the waterfall, dressed from head to toe in expensive goods, things that he wouldn't have been able to afford, and worried his lip over how much of a simple, boring man he was and the possibility of Hyukjae's sister thinking that he wasn't good enough.  _She'll love you,_ Hyukjae had reassured earlier that day,  _she knows you make me happy and that's all that matters._ Donghae would've taken his word for it, no hesitation, except his insecurities, somewhat amplified at this point, gnawed at him like a rabid rat. He couldn't help but to feel like he needed to have more to offer; more to impress Sora-noona with; but he had zilch to give, apart from his love and loyalty towards her brother. He wasn't convinced that would be enough in spite of what Hyukjae had said, however, but he figured that if he didn't have much to offer, then he'd at least have to look the part. He reached over the pile that had formed on his bed, picking up the olive green suit Kyuhyun had gifted him with by the hanger.

          "Is this too much?" He wondered aloud. Then he picked up a black turtleneck, holding it against the suit. Walking over to his dresser, he glared at himself, pressing the items against his body, contemplating. He thought and thought and thought, until he finally convinced himself that, yes, this would be the perfect outfit for his first formal meeting with Hyukjae's family. Somewhere deep down, another flower blooms at the thought of finally having some form of family again. He began his routine, of putting his ensemble together and making his hair pretty. He twisted and turned his locks of hair in between dabs of hair gel, biting his lip until he was finally satisfied with the outcome.  _Not too bad, Lee Donghae,_ he thought, impressed by his final look. And as if on cue, he heard the main door unlock.

          "Wow," gasped Hyukjae, entering the bedroom, "delicious. Maybe we could forget about meeting my sister and just stay in instead." He closed in on Donghae, hugging him from behind. The two stood there for a while, tight against each other's bodies, swaying slightly. Hyukjae snuck his finger into the collar of Donghae's turtleneck, tugging it downwards before planting his lips onto his lover's neck. He kissed and sucked at Donghae's supple skin, earning a groan from the latter, making sure to leave a mark. And when he was convinced he'd successfully left a love bite on Donghae's skin, he pulled away, tugging the collar of Donghae's turtleneck upwards to conceal the evidence. Donghae pried Hyukjae's arms apart and turned around, smiling.

          "Stop it," he warned playfully, "before I end up wanting to stay in too."

     Hyukjae grinned his infamous gummy smile. "Ready?"

          "As ever," Donghae answered.

     Joining hands, the two of them left the house and made their way to the car parked on the front porch.  _He never forgets to be a gentleman,_ Donghae remarked quietly as Hyukjae pulled the door open for him. They set off within minutes, a soft indie track occupying the spaces between them. Donghae barely even realised it, but his hand had somehow found its way onto Hyukjae's lap, stroking lovingly. A quiet wave of peace had washed over him, ridding his heart of the anxiety he'd been tussling with before Hyukjae had arrived at his house. The windshield wipers began to move, and only then did Donghae realise that he was so caught up in his own world that he had barely even noticed the rain.

 

     The ride to Sora's house was silent. A comfortable silence, to Donghae's pleasure, thank goodness. Unlike Hyukjae, who lived within walking distance of the resort, Sora lived in a standalone penthouse apartment on the end of Jejudo, about twenty minutes away.  _She likes her privacy,_ Hyukjae had explained.  _She owns the apartment and rents out the other rooms. Lives on the top floor. She's not like me; prefers living a more luxurious life. You'll see._ Fifteen minutes into the ride, Donghae noticed that his hands had gotten clammy. They always did when he got nervous.

          "Hyukjae ah," he called out, swallowing.

     Barely taking his eyes off the road, Hyukjae answered. "Mm?"

          "I'm scared."

          "Scared?"

     Donghae swallowed again. "Scared, that I'm not enough." The car slowed to a halt next to the curb.

          "Not enough for who?" Hyukjae asked as soon as he'd turned off the engine. "For me?"

     Donghae left no room for any awkward silences. "For you. For your family. I just worry that I'm not good enough for you."

          "Says who?" Hyukjae's voice was strained, and Donghae knew. He knew that deep down, Hyukjae was livid. He could see Hyukjae's fingers digging into his lap, and frankly it made him anxious.

     Taking a deep breath, Donghae slid his hand across Hyukjae's lap, interlacing their fingers.

          "Hyukjae, calm down," he soothed, squeezing Hyukjae's hand. "It's just me. I'm insecure, that's all."

      He could feel the tension dissipate beneath his fingers, even though his face remained pained.

          "There's no reason for you to be insecure," Hyukjae said simply, looking down. "You have me. You have all of me, and you're enough for me; more than enough for me. It's me who might not be enough for you. I'll make up for it though. I'll make sure I'm enough for you so you'll never have to look another way for comfort. For love."

     Donghae couldn't help his smile. "Silly boy. You  _are_ enough. You don't have to change a thing."

          "Then why won't you believe you're enough for me too?"

          "Because," Donghae began, "I have absolutely nothing to offer you. I'm a recovering amnesiac, I'm unemployed, and everything that I own was either left behind for me by my parents, or given to me by Kyuhyun and his family while they took care of me in the past. And honestly, I don't know if it ever affected me when we were young, but I feel..  _kinda_ intimidated by your sister and your riches."

     He mocked a shudder, and Hyukjae was quick to peck a kiss on his cheek.

          "What's mine is yours," Hyukjae whispered adamantly, caressing Donghae's face. Donghae grimaced.

          " _That's_ what I'm worried about." He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "What if Sora-noona thinks it's  _me_ who appeared out of nowhere in your life? What if she thinks I'm trying to inherit your wealth or something?"

     Hyukjae laughed in disbelief, and to some degree it annoyed Donghae that he didn't understand his concern. 

          "Lee Donghae," Hyukjae started. "I didn't look for you for eight years straight only to worry about you wanting my money. I know who you are, so that's not even a concern, and Sora-noona would never think—"

          "—but what if?" Donghae swallowed for the third time. "What if she does?"

     Frowning, Hyukjae searched his mind for an answer. "Then I'll talk to her. I'll change her mind.  _We'll_ change her mind. Okay?"

          "Okay." Donghae gave in. He didn't have the heart to argue.

          "Okay."

     They sat there for a solid five minutes; Donghae sat frozen uncomfortably, trying hard not to quiver under his lover's touch, whereas Hyukjae wasted not a single second caressing and kissing his other half on the cheek. Neither of them realised how much they had both been fighting off the doubts left hung in the air like dirty linen, and neither of them spoke of it from then on, either. After a while, Donghae caved, reciprocating Hyukjae's kisses. They met mouth-to-mouth, hovering precariously in a grey area between certainty and uncertainty over what they had together. They didn't want to think about it, so they let the movements of their jaws, lips and tongues do the talking for the next few minutes. Unbeknownst to them, the rain had stopped. The rain in their chests, however, continued to pour over the flowers that had bloomed inside them.

          "I didn't tell you," Hyukjae said suddenly, breaking away, "but we're here. We just need to walk a little bit."

     Peering out the window, Donghae saw the penthouse apartment; a tall building painted matte black, with window panes tainted a beautiful shade of ocean blue; standing at the end of a pavement lined with beautiful shrubs.  _Twenty-four floors,_ he guessed. He turned to look at Hyukjae.

          "Let's go." Donghae said.

     Hyukjae bit his lip, head tilted. "Are you sure you're okay?"

          "I'm okay."

     A sigh of relief escaped Hyukjae's parted lips. "Then that's all that matters. Let's go meet noona."

 

     They started down the pavement, hand-in-hand, squeezing each other's palms occasionallyhere. Hyukjae began to nag, no,  _reassure_ Donghae, but for some reason, Donghae struggled to pay attention.  _Sora-noona is a very bubbly person,_ Hyukjae said.  _But she can be quite sharp-tongued too..._

     Donghae's head was cluttered with a million and one things and he couldn't quite put a finger on it, so he kept his eyes forward, unwavering. He didn't want to worry Hyukjae, and he didn't want Hyukjae to know how much he worried, either.

_...probably cooked up a storm for us so I hope you eat to your heart's content, Hae. She likes to overdo it sometimes when she entertains guests, so I..._

For some reason, Donghae felt uneasy. The uneasiness pawed at him like a tiger trapped in a zoo enclosure; ferocious and fearful all at once. He buried the tiger as soon as they set their foot inside the apartment, and Hyukjae nodded at a man sitting at a desk next to the lift. The man smiled back as if to give consent, so they took the elevator to the highest floor. The elevator ascended, stopping for no one, and Donghae caught himself resting his nose in the dip of Hyukjae's shoulder briefly, breathing in his scent. When the doors split open on the twenty-fourth floor, Donghae tensed up, never letting go of Hyukjae's hand as they approach the front door. Hyukjae pressed the doorbell.

          "Coming!" Yelled a voice from the other side of the door. The door swung open.

     Dressed in a shimmery silver dress, Sora threw herself forward, gathering them in a tight embrace.

          "You're just in time!" Sora chirped, looking from her brother to Donghae (who bowed ever so respectfully), and back at Hyukjae. "I cooked a lot for the three of us, with Jisoo's help of course, so I hope the two of you came with empty stomachs!"

     Hyukjae slipped past his sister, leaving his shoes at the door. Donghae, however, paused.

          "I'm so glad to finally meet you," Sora grinned, squeezing Donghae's hands. "Hyukjae told me so much about you. Make yourself at home, Donghae."

 

     Stepping inside, Donghae barely managed to suppress a gasp. The interior was beautiful, and very, very modern-looking. White and black marbled walls all around, Donghae stood in the center of the living room, admiring everything. The house was so well-furbished; a long and curved, red velvet sofa marked the middle of the room on top of a luxurious, cow-printed fur carpet, with a glass coffee table in front of it. On one side of the living room was a huge window that ran from the ceiling to the floor, and wall to wall. Donghae walked over to the window and gasped once more at the view; you could see the whole of Jejudo from there. He loved it.

          "Donghae, come join us!" Sora beckoned, waving her hand over. "Noona might've gone overboard with the cooking, so this is going to be a sort of... extremely heavy lunch, if you will."

     Donghae nodded. Leaving the view, he took a seat beside Hyukjae at the dining table where a huge spread of food lay. He grinned. The smell was incredible, and Donghae, who had kept his stomach empty per Hyukjae's instruction, was eager to dig in.

          "Wah, noona!" He exclaimed, glossing his eyes over the spread. "I can't believe you cooked all of this! I feel honoured."

     Hyukjae and Sora smile in unison, happy to see the man beaming over the food.

          "Jisoo helped me with most of it, Donghae," Sora explained, smiling at a lady who hid behind the counter in the kitchen who, according to Donghae's deduction skills, was her helper. "When Hyukjae told me he'd be coming over today with someone important, I panicked. I have this.. habit of making sure my guests are comfortable."

          "Too comfortable," Hyukjae quipped cheekily. "What if Donghae doesn't want to leave the house after this?"

     The three of them broke into laughter, and Donghae thanked god for the lighthearted atmosphere. 

          "Then stay," she answered simply. "My house is Hyukjae's, and vice versa, anyway."

     Underneath the table, Donghae felt a hand give his thigh a light squeeze. He looked up at Hyukjae, whose eyes crinkled with delight as if to say  _See? You worried over nothing._ Perhaps he really did worry over nothing. However, Sora glanced at them (Donghae noticed) expressionless, deep in thought, and for some inexplicable reason, Donghae's anxiety returned with a vengeance, feeding off his insecurities. Perhaps he'd spoken (thought) too soon.

     Nodding towards the food, Sora grinned. "Hyukjae, Donghae; please eat! Dig in, and don't even think about holding back! Jisoo and I went through hell to get all the things we needed for this spread. Let's talk as we eat, shall we?"

     Donghae hesitated, waiting for Hyukjae to dig in first out of politeness and of course, as Donghae had expected, the first thing his lover reaches for is a bowl of jjampongmyeon. Hyukjae scooped some jjampongmyeon, noodles and seafood and all, onto—not his, but Donghae's bowl of rice. Donghae could feel his heart flutter.

          "Eat up, my love," Hyukjae said softly. "I know you're hungry. I heard your tummy rumble in the car."

     Sora smiled, staring at the two. She, too, began picking at the dishes, filling her own bowl with a mountain of food. They ate, and occasionally the siblings would bicker playfully, earning laughter from the group of them. Donghae chewed as silently as possible, laughing whenever he needed to, answering to questions whenever he needed to.  _So I heard from Hyukjae that the two of you met in high school,_ Sora had commented, jabbing her chopstick at a piece of odeng.  _How exactly did you meet?_ Hyukjae had intervened, luckily, saving Donghae from the embarrassment of admitting that he knew little of their past, and that most of his knowledge about it came from Hyukjae anyway.  _I can't imagine being you, Donghae,_ Sora had said as she placed vegetables in Donghae's bowl.  _You're so lucky. My brother was head over heels for you, and for more than five years straight, he kept pining for you, even when the family told him to let go. He had so much determination to find you that none of us had the heart to stop him, really._ Donghae smiled as he sipped on some soup.  _That's a relief,_ he had replied.  _I was worried he'd think I'm not as special as he remembered me._

Almost an hour into the heavy lunch, Hyukjae decided to crack the Pandora's box wide open.

         "Noona," Hyukjae called out affectionately. "There's a reason I called and said we'd be coming over today."

     Sora dabbed a napkin at her lips gingerly, smiling. "Yeah? What is it?"

          "Donghae and I..." Hyukjae stroked Donghae's thigh gently. "Donghae and I are engaged. And we plan to get married soon."

     Surprised, Sora darted her eyes in search of words to say, slack-jawed.

          "Hyukkie," Sora's lips curled into a smile. "You know I've always been supportive of you. I'm so,  _so_ happy for you! And you too, Donghae."

     The table was all smiles, until Sora's face contorted into a look of seriousness; a look of concern. She interjected, a soft _hmm_ escaping her.

         "I have a question, though." Sora's voice deepened, and her tone alone was alarming enough to create a hole for fear and doubt to set in. "You know you can't  _legally_ get married in Korea, right? You know how society is. Plus the law... But anyway, have you thought of where to go to, y'know, get married?"

     Hyukjae quickly answered. "Yes. We checked out places where gay marriages are legal and recognised and Donghae really likes Hawaii, so we might settle with that. We were planning on early April. Near my birthday, y'know?"

     Donghae nodded in agreement. He had mostly been silent the whole lunch; by choice of course, apart from his occasional comments and answers; but he couldn't hide his excitement over the engagement and imminent wedding. He figured he wouldn't have to suppress that, at the very least. And so began a ring of questions and answers in succession, during which Sora would question, and Hyukjae would, more than willingly, answer:

      _Who will you invite?_ Sora fired.

      _Anyone who cares and loves us,_ Hyukjae concluded.

      _Outdoor wedding or indoor wedding?_ was Sora's second question.

      _Outdoors,_ Hyukjae answered. _We love the outdoors, and Hawaii is too beautiful to ignore._

_Maid of honour?_

 _Kyuhyun,_ Hyukjae said, smiling fondly at Donghae.  _Only Kyuhyun._

 

As the food on the table cleared, Donghae sat in silence, listening intently on the conversation between the siblings. He observed, and quietly concluded that Sora-noona wasn't as intimidating as he'd thought; that maybe they'd get along just fine. Guilt buildt up inside of him for even thinking that Sora-noona would get in the way of their happiness. He shook his head and shook the thoughts off, smiling to himself.

          "Oh yeah, noona. I brought the stuff you asked me for," Hyukjae remembered, but seconds later, he frowned. "Shit. God damn it. I left them in the car."

     Sora shook her head. "Please stop cursing, Hyukjae. Eomma would be on your case all day and night if she were here, and since she isn't, then I will be."

          "Heh, sorry noona!" Hyukjae apologised sheepishly. "I'll go get the stuff. Donghae, wait here for me, won't you? And noona, _please_ don't traumatise my future husband with your weird questions."

     He stood up, giving Donghae a kiss atop his forehead (to which Donghae's cheeks reddened— _god_ how embarrassing) and took off, leaving Donghae and Sora in a vaguely awkward silence. Sora smiled.  _She sure does smile a lot,_ Donghae thought.  _That's good, right? I like smiley sister-in-laws._ Sora got up from her chair and turned to face the kitchen.

          "Jisoo-yah!" She shouted. "Help me clear the table, won't you? I need to talk to our guest privately!"

     The helper, Jisoo, a bright and bubbly lady who couldn't be anymore than thirty, rushed towards them, smiling and bowing courteously. Donghae watched as Sora squeezed Jisoo on the shoulder gently as a form of thanks, before beckoning for Donghae to follow her upstairs.  _Let's go to the balcony,_ she'd said.  _It's a good place to talk._ Donghae followed suit, no questions asked. They climbed a short flight of wooden stairs to the second level of the penthouse, and he watched as Sora pushed the glass doors leading to the balcony wide open. A gust of air blew into the apartment, causing Donghae's blazer to flap in the wind. They sauntered onto the balcony, leaning against the parapet. Donghae gasped; if the view from the window downstairs was beautiful, then the view from here was simply magnificent. Sora began to speak.

 

          "Beautiful, isn't it?" She remarked, staring ahead. "Whenever I feel troubled, I come onto the balcony and just.. look over Jejudo. All my aches wash away, for a moment at least. It's like a form of healing."

     Donghae smiled. "It really is beautiful. I can only wish I had access to such a view."

          "Yes," Sora agreed, her voice low. " _Wish._ You can only wish."

     Sora took a step back, folding her arms. She turned to face Donghae with a look of disdain painted across her face like a flashing neon light. The smile on her face had disappeared.

          "I'm not sure what Hyukjae has told you about me, or our family for that matter, but I want to make it clear to you that I am very,  _very_ protective of my brother, as is our parents. They left him in my care after they left to oversee our businesses overseas, and as his only sister, I can't help but to be protective of him."

     Donghae thought he'd understood, but Sora kept going.

          "I'm a very particular and wary person. The moment Hyukjae first mentioned you to me, I ran my background checks on you." Sora tilted her head slowly, almost evilly even. "I know who you are, Lee Donghae. You can't fool me. You're the boy who survived a car crash that your parents had died in. You're the boy who grew up without any memories of the past, the boy who lived the last few years amounting to little and making little progress on repossessing your past. You don't have much to your name; not a job, not money; nothing. And I don't know what kind of spell you casted on my brother, but I'm almost certain you're in this for the wealth. A wealth you can only  _wish_ you had. You know my brother has been looking for you and you decided out of convenience that you might as well use him as your muse."

     Mortified, Donghae too takes several steps back, covering his mouth. "Noona—", he chokes, "—I love him."

          "Love?" Sora rolled her eyes. How do you love someone you barely remember?"

     Donghae said nothing. He couldn't say anything, really. Like an arrow to the heart, Sora's poisonous words began to surge through his veins like black ink. How  _do_ you love someone you barely remember?

          "You're not good enough for him, Lee Donghae." Another arrow through the heart. "You know it. I know it. Soon, everyone will know it. You might as well give up now."

     Hands in his pockets, Donghae's fingers twisted the fabric. His heart felt like it weighed a ton, and his legs were too heavy to move. He allowed himself to become the target, the bullseye of Sora's piercing choice of words. He had no other choice.

          "I'm not going to say much, but I'd like to clarify that this is my warning to you. Leave my brother. I don't want to have to force you to." Sora pushed locks of hair behind her ears. "If you don't, there's no guarantee you'll escape this unscathed."

     Donghae's eyes welled up with tears.  _Not now,_ he begged his body.  _Please._

"And if you so much as cause a rift in our relationship and drive us siblings apart, or let Hyukkie know of this conversation at all," Sora paused, facing forward again, "then I'll have to get rid of you myself."

     Pain. Pain was the only thing Donghae could feel at that very moment. His words failed him. Flight mode was the only escape he had right now. Before the tears spilled over, he turned on his heels and walked out of the balcony, descended the stairs and found his way to the bathroom, locking himself inside. He could hear Jisoo calling for him outside the door, but he pretended he couldn't hear it, turning the shower on.  _Donghae-shi! Donghae-shi!_ Jisoo called, but Donghae tuned it out. All he could hear was the sound of the water running, and his loud, loud sobs echoing in between.

 

     When Hyukjae returned a while later, Donghae had already composed himself. His eyes were slightly swollen from crying, but the redness in his nose had cleared up. He sat on the red sofa and swirled a glass of champagne, doing a stupendous job of appearing fine; an act worthy of an Oscar. Hyukjae joined him on the sofa moments later after passing Sora the stuff— _what stuff,_ Donghae wondered—to her.

          "Missed me?" Hyukjae asked, stroking Donghae's chin with his thumb, oblivious.

     Donghae smiled, sipping champagne. "More than ever."

          "Good. I want you to miss me even when I'm right beside you."

     Setting the glass down, Donghae turned. "Can we go to the waterfall after this?"

          "The waterfall?" Hyukjae repeated quizzically. "I mean, sure. Anything for you, Hae."

          "Anything?"

          "Anything."

     Donghae leaned back, nodding to himself. He knew Hyukjae could sense something amiss, and he was grateful Hyukjae knew not to question it, at least not there. Sora rejoined them a while later, and amidst casual conversations and laughter, Hyukjae announced that they had to go.  _We need to be somewhere soon,_ he'd said. Sora didn't question anything either, but she did shoot Donghae a look; a cold, piercing look that only Donghae noticed. They bid their farewells, and soon Hyukjae and Donghae set off, hand-in-hand in a silent walk to the car. And in his heart of hearts, Donghae wished,  _hard,_ that Hyukjae meant his word.  _Anything._ Donghae frowned.  _I hope you mean that._

    The ignition roared.

          "I love you," Donghae said suddenly, "come what may."

     Hyukjae nodded. "I love you too."

     The car moved off. And in the silence that followed, Donghae picked up the pieces of himself that had cracked and fallen, fixing himself, and Hyukjae remembered what love was; what love could be. For now, love was quiet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo I'm sorry this took f orevuh, but I liked writing this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! Watch out for the danger that lurks ahead, though. ;-)


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